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THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


PRESENTED  BY 


Betty  Bell 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/littlestoriesofeOOIync 


TO 

Norman  Clarke  3Ljmrfj 

anS 
jjrances  Hgndj 

THESE    LITTLE    STORIES 
ARE    AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED 


Victoria  at  the  Age  of  Twelve. 


Frontispiece 


LITTLE 
STORIES   OF   ENGLAND 


BY 


MAUDE   BARROWS   DUTTON 

AUTHOR    OF    "  LITTLE    STORIES    OF    FRANCE,"    "  LITTLE    STORIES 

OF   GERMANY,"    "HUNTING   AND    FISHING,"    "IN    FIELD 

AND    PASTURE" 


WITH  A   PREFACE   BY 

FRANK   M.    McMURRY 

PROFESSOR    OF    ELEMENTARY    EDUCATION,    TEACHERS 
COLLEGE,    COLUMBIA    UNIVERSITY 


NEW   YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN     BOOK     COMPANY 


Copyright,  1911,  by 
MAUDE   BARROWS   DUTTON    LYNCH. 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London. 

little  stories  of  england. 
W.  P.  I 


PREFACE 

The  common  school  curriculum  has  been  broad- 
ened during  the  last  generation,  until  the  number 
of  subjects  in  the  weekly  program  doubles  and 
sometimes  triples  that  of  former  days.  And  while 
there  is  serious  danger  of  dissipation  now,  no  one 
questions  the  general  wisdom  of  this  change.  In- 
deed, any  pupil  who  confines  himself  even  now 
to  the  prescribed  course  of  study  is  leading  alto- 
gether too  narrow  a  life.  The  textbooks,  no  matter 
how  numerous  and  varied,  are  only  a  text  after  all, 
and  a  good  portion  of  a  young  person's  ideas  should 
come  from  other  sources  than  the  immediate  school 
instruction. 

Again,  one  weakness  of  the  school  touches  re- 
views. After  having  once  presented  valuable  topics, 
it  lacks  variety  of  ways  of  reviewing  and  thereby 
fixing 'them  as  permanent  possessions. 

This  book  aims  to  meet  both  of  these  needs ; 
and  in  my  estimation,  it  meets  them  admirably. 
It  introduces  children  to  many  topics  of  common 
interest  that  are  not  found  in  any  ordinary  course 

5 


of  study.     And  it  reviews  many  others  in  a  delight- 
ful manner. 

There  are  two  reasons  why  such  books  as  this 
may  well  occasionally  receive  a  period  of  the  regu- 
lar school  time.  In  that  way  only  will  the  impor- 
tance of  general  reading  be  properly  impressed  upon 
many  pupils.  Only  in  that  way,  too,  will  the 
teacher  have  opportunity  to  give  needed  ideas  about 
the  proper  method  of  general  reading.  Textbooks 
in  school  are  usually  covered  so  slowly  that  children 
rebel  if  they  have  preserved  enough  individuality 
to  harbor  ideas  of  their  own.  And,  as  a  conse- 
quence, any  books  that  they  are  free  to  read  in 
their  own  way  they  cover  altogether  too  rapidly. 
They  need  to  learn  a  middle  way.  By  reading  such 
stories  as  these  with  a  class,  or  by  talking  them 
over  one  by  one  with  a  class  after  the  latter  have 
read  them,  the  teacher  can  give  many  valuable  facts 
about  method  that  will  influence  all  later  general 
reading.  Since  general  reading  of  books,  maga- 
zines, and  papers,  as  distinguished  from  strenuous 
study  of  a  particular  text,  constitutes  the  main  part 
of  reading  for  most  persons  after  their  school  is 
past,  the  magnitude  of  this  matter  is  easily  apparent. 

F.    M.    McMURRY. 

Teachers  College, 

Columbia  University. 


CONTENTS 


The  White-cliffed  Island 

Caradoc     

The  Coming  of  the  English  . 

King  Arthur 

How  the  Story  of  Christ  was  told  in  Englan 
King  Alfred,  England's  Darling 
Cedmon,  the  First  English  Singer 


Canute,  the  Danish  King 


William  the  Conqueror 

King  Henry  and  the  White  Ship 

Thomas  a  Becket     

Richard  I  —  England's  Royal  Crusader 
Robin  Hood  of  Sherwood  Forest 
John  and  the  Great  Charter 
Edward  I,  the  Hammer  of  the  Scots 

The  Black  Prince 

Chaucer  and  the  Canterbury  Pilgrims 


Madcap  Harry 

Wat  Tyler  and  the  Peasant  Revolt  . 
The  Last  of  the  Barons 
William  Caxton       .         .         . 

Bluff  King  Hal 

Queen  Elizabeth      ..... 

7 


8 

PAGE 

The  Spanish  Armada 160 

Spenser  and  the  Faerie  Queen 166 

Shakespeare .171 

The  Cousins  from  Scotland 179 

Oliver  Cromwell     .         .         .         . 186 

The  Pilot  of  the  State 192 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 199 

Horatio  Nelson 205 

Wellington,  the  Iron  Duke.         ......  212 

George  III 218 

Charles  Dickens 224 

Queen  Victoria 231 

Edwin  Landseer 238 

Edward  VII 249 


LITTLE  STORIES  OF  ENGLAND 

THE  WHITE-CLIFFED  ISLAND 

The  first  story  of  England  was  written  fifty  years 
before  Christ  was  born.  It  was  written  long  before 
England  bore  the  name  of  England  ;  long  before  the 
first  words  of  the  English  language  had  been  formed ; 
long  before  people  had  learned  how  to  make  pens 
and  paper.  Julius  Caesar,  the  great  Roman  general, 
wrote  the  story.  He  wrote  it  in  his  own  language, 
Latin,  cutting  the  words  into  a  wax-covered  tablet 
with  a  hard-pointed  stylus.  It  was  a  part  of  his 
diary,  that  he  kept  faithfully,  to  tell  the  Romans  of 
the  strange  lands  that  he  had  visited  and  the  strange 
peoples  whom  he  had  conquered  in  battle. 

For  Julius  Caesar  was  a  wonderful  soldier.  He 
grew  up  in  Rome  in  the  days  when  the  dream  in  the 
heart  of  every  boy  was  to  be  strong  enough  and  brave 
enough  to  march  some  day  at  the  head  of  a  Roman 
legion.  To  the  north  and  to  the  south  of  Rome, 
over  the  mountains  and  down  to  the  sea,  ran  the  hard 
white  roads  that  stretched  out  from  the  city  like  the 
spokes   of  a  great   wheel.     Many  a  time  the    boy 


10 


Julius  watched  the  legions,  the  swift  chariots,  the 
standard  bearers  carrying  the  Roman  Eagles,  the 
long  lines  of  soldiers,  the  flying  banners,  going  forth 
to  add  new  glory  to  the  name  of  Rome.  Many  a 
time  the  man  Caesar  marched  forth  at  the  head  of 
a  legion  and  brought  his  armies  back  laden  with 
spoils.  It  was  under  his  leadership  that  the  western 
part  of  Europe,  which  was  then  called  Gaul,  was 
turned  into  a  Roman  province  and  forced  to  pay  a 
yearly  tribute  to  this  greedy  Italian  city. 

Some  of  the  people  of  Gaul  first  told  Caesar  about 
the  island  of  Britain  not  far  from  the  mainland. 
They  knew  little  about  it  except  that  now  and  again 
when  the  weather  was  fair  their  merchants  ventured 
across  the  water  to  exchange  their  goods  for  corn 
or  cattle.  As  Caesar  marched  alone:  the  coast  of 
Gaul,  he  saw  for  himself  the  white  cliffs  of  the  island 
shining  through  the  sea  fog.  His  eyes  were  as  sharp 
and  piercing  as  an  eagle's,  but  they  could  not.  see 
what  lay  beyond  those  white  cliffs.  He  felt  that  his 
work  for  Rome  would  not  be  done  until  he  had  set 
up  her  standard  on  this  island. 

At  the  end  of  August,  in  the  year  55  B.C.,  Caesar 
set  sail  at  midnight.  Two  legions  of  soldiers  sailed 
with  him.  They  were  sturdy,  strong-hearted  men. 
Each  man  wore  a  heavy  helmet,  breastplate,  and 
shield,    and    carried    a  sword,  javelin,   and    dagger. 


II 


Morning    found    the    Romans    near    the    coast    of 

Britain.     The    chalk    cliffs    looked    different    now. 

They  were  alive  with  warriors.     Crowds  of  tall  men 

clad  in  skins  and  with  long  streaming  hair  lined  the 

coast.     Chariots  dashed  back  and  forth,  driven  at  a 

mad  speed.     With  the  roaring  of  the  waves  mingled 

the  war  chants  of 

the      white-robed 

Druid    priests. 

Wild    horsemen 

plunged  into  the 

sea    and    hurled 

their  lances  at  the 

Roman      galleys. 

As     the     ships 

attempted  to  land,  a  shower  of  flint-tipped  arrows  fell 

upon  them.     More  than  this,  the  wind  and  the  tide 

were  against  the  Romans.     The  only  way  to  reach 

the  shore  was  to  wade  through  the  shallow  water. 

For  a  moment  the  Romans  hesitated.  Then  the 
standard  bearer  of  the  Tenth  Legion,  holding  the 
.bronze  eagle  high  above  his  head,  sprang  into  the 
waves  shouting,  "  Follow  me,  fellow  soldiers,  if  you 
would  not  betray  the  Roman  Eagle  into  the  hands 


British  Chariot. 


Of  th 


e  enemy 


With  a  shout  the  men  obeyed  him.     A  wild,  dis- 
orderly battle  ensued.     The  Britons  were  fearless, 


12 

but  they  could  not  hold  out  against  the  trained  army 
of  Caesar.  Still  Caesar  saw  that  his  forces  were  not 
strong  enough  to  conquer  the  island.  Content  with 
winning  the  first  battle,  he  soon  afterward  returned 
to  Gaul. 


The  Landing  of  Caesar. 

The  next  summer  he  came  again  to  Britain.  This 
time  his  eight  hundred  ships  and  galleys,  filled  with 
five  legions  of  soldiers,  sailed  with  him.  To  the 
Britons  the  whole  sea  seemed  filled  with  ships. 
They  fled,  leaving  Caesar  to  land  unharmed.  Caesar 
followed  them  inland,  fought  more  battles,  won 
more  victories,  and,  after  forcing  Britain  to  agree  to 
pay  tribute  to  Rome,  withdrew. 


13 

This  Roman  conquest  meant  little  to  Britain. 
Still,  it  is  from  Caesar's  diary  that  we  first  hear  about 
the  white-cliffed  island.  It  was  a  land,  Caesar  tells 
us,  of  vast  forests,  flat,  barren  moors,  and  great 
marshes.  The  people  were  terrible  to  look  upon. 
Their  eyes  were  blue,  and  their  yellow  hair  hung 
about  their  shoulders  uncut.  They  wore  no  gar- 
ments but  skins  of  animals,  and  they  spent  their 
days  either  hunting  or  fighting,  planting  grain  or 
minding  their  flocks.  Their  homes  were  mud  huts 
hidden  in  the  forests.  The  most  savage  tribes  of  all, 
the  Picts  and  the  Scots,  lived  like  robbers  in  the  far 
north. 

The  Britons  believed  that  the  woods  and  fens 
were  full  of  goblins  and  fairies.  Every  river  was 
protected  by  good  fairies  and  haunted  by  evil  ones. 
The  priests  of  the  Britons  were  called  Druids.  They 
dressed  in  flowing  white  garments,  and  their  chief 
wore  a  golden  box  hung  about  his  neck,  which  held 
a  magic  serpent's  egg.  The  Druids  went  into  battle 
with  the  soldiers,  and  cheered  on  the  fighting  by 
their  chants.  They  were  also  the  judges  of  all  dis- 
putes. They  had  no  books  of  laws,  but  the  old 
priests  taught  the  young  ones  all  the  customs  of 
the  people,  and  the  little  that  they  knew  themselves 
about  herbs,  about  the  planting  of  grain,  and  about 
the    stars.     These    Druids   taught   the   people   that 


14 


there  was  one  very  great  and  powerful  God  who  had 
made  them  all  and  they  worshiped  this  God  in  the 
forest  under  some  huge  oak,  or  in  stone  temples  open 


Stonehenge. 

to  the  sky.     But  their  worship  was  as  cruel  as  their 
fighting,  for  they  were  still  a  wild,  savage  people. 

This  was  a  strange  story  to  the  people  in  Rome. 
To  them  it  seemed  as  if  this  island  was  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  earth.  The  more  they  read  of  Caesar's 
story,  the  more  they  longed  to  make  Britain  subject 
to  Rome. 

CARADOC 

For  over  a  hundred  years  after  Caesar's  second 
visit  to  Britain,  Rome  left  the  island  alone.  Then 
an  emperor  came  to  the  throne  who  read  again  the 


15 

stories  in  Caesar's  diary,  and  was  filled  with  the  de- 
sire to  make  Britain  truly  a  Roman  province. 
Again  the  Britons  rallied  strongly  to  protect  their 
land  from  the  foreign  foe,  but  they  were  no  match 
for  the  trained  and  disciplined  armies  of  Roman 
soldiers.  Yet  one  brave  man  stood  defiant  for  over 
nine  years.  Caradoc,  a  young  Briton  chief,  still  be- 
lieved that  the  fearless  courage  of  his  people  would 
in  the  end  be  triumphant.  Back,  back,  back,  ever 
farther  and  farther  and  farther  inland,  he  was  driven 
by  the  Romans.  Yet  he  seemed  to  gain  new  hope 
from  each  defeat.  At  last  he  was  obliged  to  flee 
into  the  hills.  After  him,  with  firm,  steady,  onward 
march,  came  the  Roman  legions.  Caradoc  took  his 
stand  on  a  high  hill  which  was  cut  off  from  the 
Romans  by  a  river  at  its  foot.  He  threw  up  a  de- 
fense of  huge  stones.  He  gathered  the  Britons  from 
far  and  near.  He  knew  that  this  was  to  be  the  final 
struggle.  As  he  saw  the  army  approaching  he 
rushed  through  the  ranks,  cheering  his  men  and 
crying,  "To-day  shall  decide  whether  Britain  shall 
be  free  or  subject  to  Rome." 

The  Britons  caught  his  spirit.  A  shower  of 
stones  and  darts  fell  like  biting  hail  on  the  ap- 
proaching Romans.  But  the  Romans  were  armed 
with  breastplates  and  helmets  of  the  finest  metal, 
whereas  the  Britons  wore  no  armor.     It  was  a  ter- 


i6 

rible  battle.  Caradoc  escaped,  but  soon  afterwards 
he  was  captured,  and  he  and  his  whole  family  were 
sent  to  Rome. 

All  Rome  thronged  the  streets  to  see  the  tri- 
umphant procession  of  the  Roman  general  who  had 
finally  conquered  the  far-away  island.  They  gazed 
with  pride  at  the  golden  treasure  that  was  borne 
before  him,  and  at  the  long  line  of  captives  who 
marched  behind  in  chains.  Whenever  Caradoc 
passed,  cheers  went  up,  cheers  for  the  Roman  gen- 
eral who  after  nine  years  had  conquered  this  brave 
patriot.  Caradoc  did  not  march  like  a  captive.  He 
held  his  head  as  high  as  if  he  were  wearing  a  crown 
instead  of  chains.  He  saw  in  astonishment  the 
beautiful  palaces  and  temples  of  Rome.  A  picture 
came  into  his  mind  of  the  mud  huts  of  his  own  peo- 
ple. "  Strange,  strange,"  he  said,  half  aloud,  "  that 
people  who  own  so  many  and  such  rich  possessions 
should  envy  us  our  poor  homes." 

Slowly  the  long  procession  moved  through  the 
city  to  the  field  of  Mars,  where  the  emperor  Claudius 
and  the  empress  sat  in  state,  waiting  to  welcome  the 
triumphant  general.  Weeping  and  begging  mercy 
the  captives  fell  on  their  knees  before  the  emperor. 
Caradoc,  alone,  remained  standing  in  haughty  pride. 
Claudius  turned  his  eyes  upon  him.  There  was  a 
moment  of  silence  as  the  emperor  spoke :  — 


17 

"  Briton,  knowest  thou  that  thou  must  die  ?  All 
who  bear  arms  against  Rome,  as  thou  hast  done,  are 
doomed  to  death." 

Caradoc's  voice  was  as  calm  as  the  emperor's  as 
he  replied :  — 

"  I  had  men  and  horses,  arms  and  wealth.  I 
might  have  been  your  friend  instead  of  your  captive. 
Had  I  surrendered  to  your  power,  neither  my 
fall  nor  your  triumph  would  have  been  so  great  as 
now.  Put  me  to  death,  and  my  story  will  be  forgot- 
ten. Spare  me,  and  your  mercy  will  be  remembered 
forever.  As  for  me,  I  have  nothing  to  live  for ;  I 
fear  death  no  more  here  than  on  the  field  of  battle." 

The  noble  bearing  of  the  man  appealed  to  the 
emperor.  Caradoc  was  set  free,  and,  as  he  said,  his 
story  has  not  been  forgotten. 

But  meanwhile  in  Britain  the  Roman  conquest 
went  on.  All  the  island,  except  the  North,  where 
the  wild  Picts  and  Scots  lived,  was  gradually  con- 
quered. Then,  as  was  her  custom,  Rome  began  to 
send  her  masons,  her  builders,  her  merchants,  to 
follow  after  the  soldiers.  The  great  marsh  lands 
were  drained.  The  mud  huts  were  shattered,  and 
houses,  temples,  theaters,  and  baths  were  built  in 
their  place.  The  forest  trails  were  beaten  down 
into  broad,  hard  roads  running  from  town  to  town. 
A  mighty  wall  was  built  in  the  North  reaching  from 

LIT.  STO.  OF  ENG. 2 


i8 

sea  to  sea;  bridges  spanned  the  rivers,  and  guards 
kept  them  day  and  night  against  the  Picts  and 
Scots.  The  people  were  taught  to  wear  cloth  gar- 
ments instead  of  skins.     They  were  shown  how  to 


"  A  mighty  wall  was  built.*' 

till  the   soil   and    raise   grain.     The  captives  were 
forced  to  work  in  the  lead  and  tin  mines. 

For  over  four  hundred  years  the  work  of  the 
Roman  conquest  went  on,  changing  the  island  from 
a  savage  to  a  civilized  country.  Yet  it  was  not  all 
gain  for  Britain.  Many  of  her  men  and  women 
worked  as  slaves  for  Rome.  Many  of  her  young 
men  were  sent  to  fight  in  the  Roman  army.     Every 


19 

year  the  island  was  forced  to  pay  a  heavy  tax  to 
Rome.  Little  by  little  the  Britons  lost  their  war- 
like spirit.  They  were  no  longer  warriors,  for  if  an 
enemy  attacked  them,  the  Roman  legions  were  there 
to  protect  them. 

But  the  end  of  Rome's  greatness  was  drawing 
near.  Wild  tribes  began  attacking  the  city  which 
had  once  been  the  most  powerful  city  of  the  world. 
Her  legions  were  needed  at  home.  One  by  one 
they  were  withdrawn  from  Britain.  The  Picts  and 
Scots  were  quick  to  learn  that  the  Romans  had 
gone.  They  came  down  from  the  North  like  a 
swarm  of  angry  hornets.  The  Britons  were  power- 
less against  these  invaders.  Terror-stricken,  they 
sent  a  letter  to  the  Roman  General,  calling  it  "  The 
Groans  of  the  Britons."  It  was  a  pitiful  letter  beg- 
ging for  help. 

"  The  savages  drive  us  into  the  sea,"  they  wrote ; 
"  the  sea  drives  us  back  on  the  savages.  Our  onlv 
choice  is  whether  we  shall  die  by  the  sword  or 
drown  ;  for  we  have  none  to  save  us." 

But  Rome  could  only  send  back  the  answer, 
"  Britain  must  look  to  her  own  defense." 


20 


THE   COMING   OF   THE   ENGLISH 

Years  passed  by,  each  one  more  troublesome  for 
Britain.  The  robber  tribes  in  the  North  grew 
bolder  in  their  plundering.  Pirates  from  the  bar- 
barians living  along  the  North  Sea  began  to  ravage 
the  eastern  coast  of  the  island.  The  spirit  of  Car- 
adoc  was  dead.  Rome  had  withdrawn  all  help. 
Where  should  the  Britons  turn  for  aid  ?  Then 
Vortigern,  a  Briton  king,  bethought  himself,  "  I 
shall  do  well  if  I  can  set  these  robbers  one  against 
another."  So  he  sent  word  to  the  Jutes,  a  warlike 
people  living  on  the  peninsula  that  we  call  Den- 
mark, and  said,  "  Let  us  make  an  alliance  together." 

So  Hengist  and  Horsa,  the  leaders  of  the  Jutes, 
gave  a  great  feast  to  Vortigern,  and  the  pledge  was 
drunk  that  if  the  Jutes  would  aid  the  Britons  in 
driving  back  the  Picts  and  Scots  the  king  Vortigern 
would  give  to  them  the  island  of  Thanet.  If  we 
may  believe  the  legend,  another  pledge  was  also 
made  at  this  feast,  for  Hengist  had  a  daughter 
Rowena,  who  was  very  beautiful,  and  who  served 
the  king  at  table.  When  Vortigern  looked  into  her 
blue  eyes,  he  loved  her,  and  said  to  Hengist :  — 

"  Give  me  the  maid  to  wife,  and  I  will  give  you 
the  kingdom  of  Kent." 

Be  this  story  as  it  may,  band  upon  band  of  Jutes 


21 

sailed  for  England.  These  tribes  had  never  been 
subdued  by  the  Romans.  The  love  of  war  was 
born  in  their  blood.  They  drove  the  Picts  and 
Scots  back  behind  the  great  wall,  and  placed  guards 
there,  as  the  Romans  had  done  before  them.  As  a 
reward  for  their  great  service  they  were  given  the 
island  of  Thanet.  Here  many  of  the  Jutes  settled, 
but  others  returned  home  to  Denmark.  At  home 
they  told  strange  tales.  They  told  of  rich  cities. 
They  told  of  fertile  fields.  They  told  of  the  coward- 
ice of  the  Britons,  who  fled  at  the  sight  of  the  Picts 
and  Scots.  In  Britain,  it  seemed,  was  wealth  to  be 
had  for  the  taking. 

Other  tribes  besides  the  Jutes  began  to  turn  long- 
ing eyes  upon  the  island.  The  Saxons  and  the 
Angles,  from  Germany,  were  quick  to  follow  the 
lead  of  the  Jutes.  At  first  they  went  merely  to 
plunder  and  return  home.  Then,  as  they  saw  that 
the  stories  of  the  Jutes  were  true,  they  came  bring- 
ing with  them  their  wives,  children,  and  cattle. 
They  came  seeking  homes  in  a  land  that  was  better 
than  their  own. 

In  dismay  the  Britons  saw  that  a  new  enemy  was 
upon  them.  These  Saxons  and  Angles  were  a 
merciless  people.  In  war  they  killed  all  their  cap- 
tives or  made  them  slaves.  They  tore  down  the 
beautiful  palaces  and  theaters  that  the  Romans  had 


22 

built.  They  turned  the  Christian  churches  into 
Pagan  temples.  The  few  Britons  who  escaped 
sought  refuge  in  the  West  among  the  mountains  of 
Wales.  Slowly  the  Angles  and  Saxons  made  the 
island  their  own.     In   the  fertile   fields  they  built 


"These  Saxons  and  Angles  were  a  merciless  people." 

up  villages  like  those  they  had  left  behind  in  Ger- 
many. Each  freeman  of  the  tribe  had  a  small  piece 
of  land  which  he  called  his  own.  Here  he  built  his 
rude  hut  of  branches,  woven  together  and  covered 
with  mud.  There  was  little  furniture  in  the  hut, 
but  on  the  walls  of  the  very  poorest  hung  the  free- 


23 

man's  arms.  He  must  be  ready  at  a  moment's 
notice  to  rally  around  his  chief. 

On  the  edge  of  the  village  was  the  plowland, 
where  the  slaves  were  set  to  work,  plowing,  plant- 
ing, and  reaping  grain.  Round  the  plowland  ran  a 
high  hedge  to  keep  out  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forests. 
No  man  ventured  far  into  these  forests  unarmed. 
But  on  the  border  of  the  woods  beneath  the  beech 
trees  the  boy  swineherd  fed  his  swine.  The  boy 
was  dressed  in  uncombed  sheepskins,  with  sandals 
on  his  feet,  bound  with  leather  thongs.  His  mat- 
ted hair  was  his  only  cap.  Around  his  neck  he 
wore  a  brass  ring,  like  a  dog's  collar,  telling  the 
name  of  his  master,  for  the  swineherd  was  a  slave. 
A  ram's  horn  hung  from  his  belt,  to  call  the  swine 
together  at  night. 

The  Romans  had  come  as  conquerors.  These  new 
tribes  came  as  settlers.  In  the  course  of  time  seven 
great  separate  kingdoms  grew  up  in  Britain.  The 
Jutes  settled  in  Kent.  The  Saxons  formed  three 
kingdoms :  Essex,  or  the  land  of  the  East  Saxons ; 
Wessex,  the  land  of  the  West  Saxons ;  and  Sussex, 
the  land  of  the  South  Saxons.  And  the  Angles 
named  their  three  kingdoms  Anglia,  Mercia,  and 
Northumbria.  Their  whole  territory  they  called 
Angles'  land,  and  from  this  name  came  England,  the 
name  of  the  southern  part  of  the  island  of  Britain. 


24 

KING   ARTHUR 

In  the  days  when  the  heart  of  every  Briton  was 
terror-stricken  by  the  word  Roman,  one  man  had 
arisen  from  their  own  midst,  —  Caradoc.  Now,  when 
the  Saxons  were  sweeping  across  the  land  like  fire, 
another  Briton  hero  met  the  foe  fearlessly,  and  dared 
lead  his  army  against  them.  The  name  of  this  hero 
king  was  Arthur,  and  history  tells  us  little  about 
him  except  that  in  his  courage  lay  the  dying  hope  of 
his  people. 

To-day  when  a  great  man  dies  a  monument  is 
erected  to  his  honor,  so  that  even  those  who  never 
saw  him  can  look  into  his  face  and  feel  that  they, 
too,  have  known  him.  But  in  these  early  days,  when 
the  Britons  were  fleeing  for  their  lives  to  the  woods 
and  mountains,  they  could  do  little  to  honor  a  hero. 
Still,  they  did  not  forget  King  Arthur.  The  story 
of  his  brave  deeds  passed  from  lip  to  lip.  Mothers 
told  of  it  to  their  children,  and  these  children  in  their 
turn  told  it  to  their  own.  It  came  to  be  the  favorite 
tale  of  the  Britons.  And  the  oftener  it  was  told  the 
more  their  love  grew  for  this  king.  They  came  to 
believe  that  he  had  power  to  do  any  deed  that  was 
good  and  noble.  Centuries  afterwards  these  legends 
and  tales  were  gathered  together  and  printed  in  a 
book.     Which  were  true  we  of  to-day  can  no  longer 


25 

tell ;  but  what  is  true  is  that  boys  and  girls  of  to-day 
love  the  tale  of  King  Arthur  just  as  much  as  did  the 
little  Britons  who  listened  to  it  in  the  far  distant 
past.     This  is  the  story. 

It  happened  in  the  days  when  Uther  was  king  in 
England  that  a  son  was  born  to  him.  But  the  king 
did  not  like  the  child,  and,  when  he  was  still  a  wee 
baby,  he  commanded  two  knights  and  two  ladies  to 
wrap  the  child  in  a  cloth  of  gold,  and  give  it  to 
the  first  poor  man  who  passed  the  castle  gate.  So 
it  befell  that  the  baby  came  into  the  hands  of  Merlin, 
the  Enchanter,  who  named  him  Arthur  and  gave 
him  to  Sir  Ector  to  bring  up  as  his  son. 

About  two  years  after  this,  King  Uther  fell  sick 
and  died,  leaving  the  realm  without  a  ruler.  There 
were  many  lords  who  came  forth  eager  to  be  king, 
but  none  could  decide  who  should  be  chosen,  and 
for  a  long,  long  time  only  strife  and  jealousy  reigned 
in  England.  Then  Merlin  bade  the  lords  of  the 
land  gather  in  the  greatest  church  in  London  on 
Christmas  morn  and  see  if  God  would  not  send  them 
a  sign  who  should  be  their  king.  And  when  the 
mass  was  over  there  was  found  in  the  churchyard  a 
great  stone,  four  feet  square,  and  in  the  midst  of  it 
was  an  anvil  of  steel  in  which  a  sword  of  gold  was 
imbedded.     And  round   about    the  sword  ran  this 


26 

inscription  in  letters  of  gold  :  "  Whoso  pulleth  this 
sword  out  of  this  stone  and  anvil,  is  rightwise  born 
king  of  the  Britons." 

Many  a  knight  was  eager  to  try  his  hand,  and  each 
was  given  his  turn,  but  the  sword  clung  fast  in  the 
anvil  as  if  it  were  in  truth  a  part  of  the  stone  itself. 
Then  the  archbishop  said,  "  Truly  this  is  a  miracle 
of  God,  and  He  will  send  us  our  king  in  due  season. 
Till  then  let  us  wait  in  peace." 

So  the  knights  went  forth  to  gather  again  on  New 
Year's  Day  at  a  great  tournament.  And  among 
those  who  rode  to  the  tournament  was  Sir  Ector 
with  his  son  Sir  Kay,  and  the  young  Arthur  his 
foster  brother.  But  when  Sir  Kay  was  about  to 
enter  the  jousts,  he  bethought  him  that  he  had  left 
his  sword  at  home,  and  bade  young  Arthur  ride 
quickly  and  fetch  it.  On  the  way  the  boy  remem- 
bered the  tale  he  had  heard  of  the  sword  in  the 
churchyard,  and  determined  that  he  would  try  his 
strength.  So  when  he  had  come  to  the  church  he 
tied  his  horse  to  the  stile  and  went  over  to  the  great 
stone.  He  clasped  the  hilt  firmly  with  his  right 
hand  and  drew  the  sword  lightly  from  its  bed  of 
steel.  A  moment  later  he  was  back  on  the  field, 
delivering  the  sword  to  Sir  Kay. 

When  Sir  Kay  had  looked  at  the  sword,  he  knew 
well  whence  it  came.    ,  The  tale  spread  fast  among 


27 


the     knights     that    Arthur    had    drawn    forth    the 
miraculous  sword. 

Then  all  together  they  rode  back  to  the  church- 
yard, and  placed 
the  sword  in  the 
anvil.  Again  ten 
knights  tried  one 
by  one  to  draw  it 
forth,  but  it  yielded 
to  none  of  them. 
Yet  when  Arthur's 
hand  fell  upon  it,  it 
slipped  out  with 
no  effort.  There- 
upon Sir  Ector 
and  Sir  Kay  knelt 
down  before  Ar- 
thur, and  all  the 
other  knights 
knelt  down,  and 
Arthur  was  proclaimed 
friend,  Merlin  the  Enchanter,  help  him. 

At  another  time  Merlin  and  the  king  were  to- 
gether, and  Arthur  was  sad  because  he  had  broken 
his  sword  in  battle  with  a  knight.  Then  said 
Merlin,  "  Let  us  ride  down  to  yonder  lake." 

Together  they  came  to  the  lake  side,  and  there  in 


'Arthur  was  proclaimed  king." 

ing.     So  once  more  did  his 


23 


the  midst  of  the  water  arose  an  arm  holding  aloft  a 

beautiful  sword.     And    over   the  waters   was  seen 

coming  a  maiden. 

"  Speak  fair  to  yonder  maiden,  for  she  is  the  Lady 

of  the  Lake," 
quoth  Merlin ; 
"  and  she  will 
give  you  the 
sword." 

"  Fair  lady," 
spoke  Arthur, 
"  pray  tell  me 
whose  is  yonder 
sword  ?  I  wish 
indeed  that  it 
were  mine,  for 
mine  is  broken 
in  twain." 

"  The  sword 
is  mine,"  was 
the  maiden's 
answer ;      "  but 

gladly  will  I  give  it  to  thee.     Do  thou  take  yonder 

barge  and  row  out  and  fetch  it." 

So  Arthur  and   Merlin  rowed  out  into  the  lake, 

and  the  king  took  the  sword,  while  the  arm  again 

went  under  the  water.     Then  Merlin  told  him  that 


ExcaHbur. 


29 

the  name  of  the  sword  was  Excalibur,  and  that  he 
should  do  with  it  many  a  brave  and  noble  deed. 

The  words  of  Merlin  came  true,  and  Arthur's 
fame  grew  wider  and  wider.  Then  his  barons  came 
to  him  and  said,  "  So  noble  a  king  should  take  to 
himself  a  wife.  Now  is  there  not  some  lady  of  the 
land  whom  ye  love  better  than  another  ?  " 

"  Yea,"  said  King  Arthur,  "  I  love  Guenevere  of 
the  house  of  Cameliard,  whose  father  holdeth  the 
Table  Round  that  ye  told  me  he  had  of  my  father, 
Uther.  She  is  the  gentlest  and  the  fairest  lady  in 
the  land." 

So  Merlin  went  forth  and  brought  Guenevere  to 
be  Arthur's  wife,  and  her  father  sent  with  her  as  a 
gift  the  Round  Table  and  a  hundred  knights.  And 
the  noble  deeds  that  were  done  by  King  Arthur 
and  his  knights  of  the  Round  Table  would  fill  a 
book  of  many  pages,  for  the  king  lived  to  a  good 
old  age. 

Nobly  did  the  king  live,  and  nobly  did  he  die. 
Wounded  in  battle  he  lay  dying  in  his  tent.  Then 
he  called  to  him  one  of  his  knights,  Sir  Bedivere, 
and  handed  him  his  sword. 

"  Take  thou  Excalibur,  my  good  sword,"  he  said, 
"  and  carry  it  to  yonder  lake,  where  thou  shalt  throw 
it  into  the  water,  and  then  return  to  me  and  tell  me 
what  thou  shalt  see." 


30 


11   - 

if     '  |  'W^ 

H    '         '  ******  ^    f                           / 

4 

/  st***0*0. 

Sir  Galahad,  a  Knight  of  the  Round  Table. 


3i 

At  these  words  Sir  Bedivere  knew  that  the  king's 
end  was  near.  He  went  out,  sad  of  face,  to  do  his 
command.  But  on  the  way  he  paused  to  look  at 
the  sword.  "  It  is,  forsooth,  a  pity  to  cast  such  a 
fine  sword  into  the  water,"  he  thought  to  himself, 
and  straightway  hid  it  beneath  a  tree. 

"  What  saw  ye  at  the  lake  ?  "  questioned  the  king, 
when  Sir  Bedivere  returned. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  knight,  "  I  saw  nothing  but  the 
waves  driven  by  the  wind." 

Then  Arthur  looked  into  his  eyes,  and  said,  "  As 
thou  art  dear  to  me,  go  and  do  my  command."  And 
Sir  Bedivere  went  out  the  second  time.  But  a 
second  time,  when  he  held  the  sword  in  his  hand, 
he  said  to  himself,  "  It  is  indeed  a  shame  to  throw 
away  such  a  noble  sword."  Again  he  hid  it,  and 
went  back  to  the  dying  king. 

"  What  saw  ye  there  at  the  lake  ? "  The  king 
repeated  his  question,  and  the  knight  made  answer: 
"  Sir,  I  saw  nothing  but  the  lapping  waves." 

"Ah,  traitor!"  cried  the  king,  "now  hast  thou 
betrayed  me  twice.  In  the  name  of  the  love  which 
I  have  ever  borne  to  thee;  depart  and  do  my  com- 
mand." 

A  third  time  Sir  Bedivere  went  out  and  took  the 
sword,  but  this  time  he  carried  it  to  the  lake  and 
threw  it   far  into   the  water.     He   stood   above  on 


32 

the  cliff  and  watched.  He  saw  the  waves  part,  and 
an  arm  and  head  come  out  of  the  water  and  seize 
the  sword.  Three  times  the  sword  was  brandished 
in  the  air,  and  then  it  sank  forever  beneath  the 
waves.  So  Sir  Bedivere  came  again  to  the  king, 
and  told  him  what  he  had  seen. 

"  Alas,"  said  Arthur,  "  now  help  me  hence,  for  I 
fear  that  I  have  tarried  too  long." 

Then  the  knight  took  the  king  gently  in  his  arms, 
and  carried  him  down  to  the  lake  side.  And  there 
stood  a  barge  with  many  fair  ladies  in  it,  all  wear- 
ing hoods  of  black.  And  when  they  saw  the  king 
they  wept  and  wailed. 

"  Now  put  me  in  the  barge,"  quoth  the  king. 
Sir  Bedivere  lifted  him  in,  and  noiselessly  the  barge 
left  the  shore.    And  the  king  said  unto  his  knight:  — ■ 

"...  now  farewell.     I  am  going  a  long  way 

To  the  island-valley  of  Avilion ; 
Where  falls  not  hail,  or  rain,  or  any  snow, 
Nor  ever  wind  blows  loudly ;  but  it  lies 
Deep-meadowed,  happy,  fair  with  orchard-lawns 
And  bowery  hollows  crowned  with  summer  sea. 
Where  I  will  heal  me  of  my  grievous  wound." 

This  is  the  last  story  of  the  Britons. 


33 


HOW   THE    STORY   OF    CHRIST    WAS   TOLD 
IN    ENGLAND 

Little  by  little  all  Roman  influence  disappeared 
from  the  white-cliffed  island.  Missionaries  from 
Ireland  brought  to  the  Britons  the  news  of  the 
new  religion  of  Christianity  that  Rome  had  sent  to 
them.  But  this  religion  gave  way  to  the  German 
paganism  when  the  Angles  and  Saxons  came.  The 
Latin  words  were  forgotten  for  the  rougher  tongue 
of  the  newcomers.  The  one  remaining  link 
between  England  and  Rome  was  her  trade,  and  the 
selling  of  English  men  and  women  and  boys  and 
girls  in  Rome  as  slaves. 

It  so  happened  that  one  day  Gregory,  a  priest, 
was  passing  the  slave  market  in  Rome,  and  saw  two 
English  boys  standing  there.  Their  fair  skin  and 
hair  and  blue  eyes,  so  different  from  the  Italians, 
attracted  his  attention. 

"  Who  are  these  golden-haired  boys  ?  "  he  asked 
of  the  slave  dealer. 

"  They  are  Angles,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Not  Angles,  but  Angels,"  returned  the  priest. 
"  And  whence  come  they?  " 

"  From  Deira." 

"Deira!"  repeated  Gregory  (which  in  Latin 
means,  "  from   the   wrath  of   God  ").      "  Aye,  verily 

LIT.    STO.    OF   ENG.  —  2 


34 

they  are  plucked  from  the  wrath  of  God  and 
called  to  Christ's  mercy.  And  what  is  their  king's 
name  ?  " 

They  told  him  "  JEMa." 


St.  Augustine  preaching  to  Ethelbert. 

"  A  word  of  good  omen,"  replied  Gregory ;  "  Alle- 
luias shall  be  sung  in  ^Ella's  land." 

Gregory  never  forgot  the  faces  of  those  slave 
boys.  He  longed  to  go  himself  to  their  land,  but 
this  was  not  possible,  for  he  afterwards  became  Pope, 
and  there  were  many  other  pressing  matters  for  him 


35 

.to  attend  to.  Still,  after  many  years,  he  sent  to 
England  a  certain  monk  named  Augustine  to  tell 
the  story  of  Christ  there.  Augustine  set  out  with  a 
little  band  of  followers  across  Gaul.  On  his  journey 
he  heard  so  many  terrifying  tales  of  the  Saxons  that 
he  wrote  to  Rome  begging  to  be  allowed  to  return. 
But  Gregory  bade  him  go  on  his  way.  "  The  more 
difficult  the  labor,  the  greater  the  reward,"  was  his 
reply.  In  the  year  597  Augustine  and  his  fellow 
missionaries  landed  on  the  island  of  Thanet. 

They  had  chosen  Kent  for  a  first  landing  spot 
because  Ethelbert,  the  king,  had  married  a  Frankish 
princess  Bertha,  who  was  a  Christian.  Bertha 
persuaded  the  king  to  receive  the  strangers  kindly, 
but  Ethelbert  would  not  allow  them  to  come  under 
his  roof.  He  feared  they  might  cast  a  magic  spell 
over  his  house.  So  the  first  meeting  was  held  out 
of  doors  under  a  great  oak. 

The  king  and  his  court  watched  the  procession  of 
white-robed  priests  coming  up  from  the  sea,  bearing 
ahead  a  silver  cross  and  a  banner  on  which  was 
painted  a  picture  of  Christ.  They  listened,  too,  to 
the  chants  that  the  priests  sang  and  the  long  sermon 
that  Augustine  preached.  Then  the  king  said, 
"Your  words  are  fair,  but  they  are  new."  He  was 
not  willing  to  give  up  his  old  religion  so  quickly. 
Yet  he  permitted  them  to  come  back  with  him  to 


36 

Canterbury  and  worship  in  an  old  Roman  church,- 
St.  Martin's,  which  was  still  standing  there.     After  a 


i 

?"• 

P°t^tfeW» 

rni 

^  •--- 

w^^^S 

Canterbury  Cathedral. 


year,  when  he  had  seen  what  good  men  Augustine 
and  his  followers  were,  and  how  they  helped  the 
poor  and  taught  the  ignorant,  Ethelbert  was  himself 
baptized,  and  not  long  after  his  whole  court,  and 
Kent  became  a  Christian  kingdom  with  Augustine 
bishop  of  Canterbury. 

The  next  kingdom  to  become  Christianized  was 
Northumbria.     Edwin,  who  was  the  rightful  king  of 


37 

Northumberland,  had  been  deposed,  and  had  fled  for 
protection  to  Redwald,  the  king  of  East  Anglia. 
At  first  Redwald  was  kind  to  him,  but  finally  he 
was  persuaded  to  give  him  over  to  his  enemies. 
Edwin  had  learned  of  the  plot  and  had  gone  out  in 
the  early  morning  to  think  over  what  he  could  do. 
He  was  seated  on  a  stone  near  the  palace,  when  a 
stranger  came  up  to  him  and  said :  — 

"  Think  not  that  I  do  not  know  why  you  are 
wakeful  when  others  sleep.  What  will  you  give  to 
him  who  will  persuade  Redwald  not  to  hand  you 
over  to  your  enemies  ?  " 

"  He  shall  have  all  the  gratitude  of  my  heart," 
Edwin  made  reply. 

"  And  what  if  he  overcomes  your  enemies  and 
makes  you  the  most  powerful  king  in  England  ? " 

"  I  will  give  myself  to  him,"  answered  Edwin. 

"  And  if  he  tell  you  more  of  the  meaning  of  life 
and  death  than  any  of  your  forefathers  have  known, 
will  you  listen  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  will." 

Then  the  stranger,  laying  his  hand  on  Edwin's 
head,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  "  When  this  sign 
shall  be  repeated,"  he  said,  "  remember  it  and  this 
hour,  and  what  you  have  promised."  With  these 
words  the  stranger  vanished. 

Many   years  afterwards,  when  Edwin's  kingdom 


3* 

had  been  returned  to  him,  Paulinus,  a  priest,  came 
and  asked  him  if  he  remembered  the  sign  and  his 
promise.  Edwin  answered  yes,  and  pledged  him- 
self to  become  a  Christian.  But  first  he  called 
together  a  council  of  his  nobles  to  discuss  the 
matter.  He  told  them  the  story,  and  asked  them  if 
he  should  give  up  the  old  religion  for  the  new. 
This  is  the  answer  that  one  of  his  men  made :  — 

"  The  present  life  seems  to  me  like  the  flight  of 
a  sparrow.  The  bird  of  a  wintry  night  flies  into  the 
great  hall  where  we  sit  feasting,  and  for  a  few  moments 
it  is  safe  and  warm  by  our  fire.  But  an  instant  later 
it  vanishes  into  the  dark  of  the  night  and  the  cold 
of  the  storm.  If  the  new  religion  can  tell  us  more 
about  this  night  into  which  we  must  all  some  day 
pass,  let  us  too  become  Christians."  So  the  king 
and  all  the  nobles  adopted  the  new  faith. 

It  was  in  this  kingdom,  in  Lammermoor,  that  one 
of  the  greatest  English  missionaries  was  born. 
Cuthbert  was  a  lame  shepherd  boy.  A  pilgrim  in  a 
white  mantle,  coming  over  the  hill  and  pausing  to 
heal  the  shepherd  boy's  knee,  seemed  to  him  an 
angel.  The  stars  in  the  sky  seemed  to  him  to  be 
angelic  hosts.  He  was  not  happy  until  he  joined  a 
brotherhood  and  became  a  monk.  But  he  did  not 
spend  his  days  in  the  monastery.  He  went  out  over 
the  moors  and  the  meadows,  telling  the  people  who 


39 

lived  in  little  thatched  huts  the  story  of  Christ.  On 
foot  and  on  horseback  he  traveled  through  woods 
and  villages,  preaching  in  simple  fashion  to  the 
peasants. 

"  Never  did  man  die  of  hunger,  who  served  God 
faithfully,"  he  would  say,  when  nightfall  came  upon 


St.  Cuthbert  and  the  Eagle. 

them  supperless  in  the  waste  land.  "  Look  at  the 
eagle  overhead !  God  can  feed  us  through  him,  if 
He  will."  And  even  as  he  finished  these  words,  the 
frightened  bird  let  fall  a  fish  that  she  was  carrying 
home  in  her  beak. 

Another  time,  when   the  storm  drove  him  inland, 
as  he  was  trying  to  make  his  way  down  the  coast, 


4Q 

his  companions  grew  disheartened.  "  The  snow 
closes  the  way  along  the  shore,"  they  cried ;  "and 
the  storm  bars  our  way  over  the  sea." 

"  There  is  still  the  way  of  heaven  that  lies  open 
to  us,"  Cuthbert  made  answer. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  story  of  Christ  was  told  in 
England  both  to  the  kings  and  to  the  people. 


:>X*< 


KING   ALFRED,    ENGLAND'S    DARLING 

King  Alfred  is  the  best  beloved  of  all  of  Eng- 
land's kings.  An  old  English  writer  tells  us  that  he 
was  the  favorite  son  of  his  father  and  mother  because 
he  was  the  "  lovesomest,"  and  one  thousand  years 
after  his  death  all  England  held  a  great  celebration 
in  his  memory,  because  they  still  loved  this  king. 
He  was  the  youngest  of  four  brothers,  but  he  soon 
showed  that  he  was  more  eager  to  learn  than  any 
of  the  others. 

One  day  the  mother  was  showing  the  boys  a  book 
of  Saxon  lays.  There  were  no  printed  books  at  this 
time,  and  in  this  book  the  letters  had  been  painted, 
probably  by  some  monk,  and  they  were  done  in  gor- 
geous reds  and  greens  and  gold.  To  Alfred,  lean- 
ing against  his  mother's  knee,  this  book  seemed  the 
most   beautiful    thing  that   he  had   ever  seen,  and 


41 


he  longed  to  have  it  for  his  own.  Then  he  listened 
and  heard  his  mother  saying:  "Whichever  of  you 
can  soonest  learn  this  volume,  to  him  will  I  give  it." 


Alfred  and  the  New  Book. 

Alfred  looked  up  with  wide-open  eyes.  "  Wilt 
thou  indeed  give  one  of  us  this  book  —  and  to  him 
who  can  soonest  understand  and  repeat  it  before 
thee  ?  " 

And  his  mother  answered,  "  Yea,  I  will."  Per- 
haps she  guessed  then  which  of  her  sons  it  would 
be,  for  while  the  others  soon  ran  away  to  their  play, 


42 

Alfred  took  the  book  very  carefully  and  carried  it  to 
his  master.  He  could  not  read  himself,  but  his 
master  read  the  Saxon  poems  aloud,  until  his  little 
pupil  learned  them  word  for  word.  That  was  the 
way  Alfred  earned  his  first  book. 

When  Alfred  was  still  a  little  boy,  he  was  sent  on 
a  pilgrimage  to  Rome,  where  he  was  confirmed. 
We  do  not  know  how  many  months  he  stayed  there 
nor  what  he  did,  but  this  long  journey  to  the  Eter- 
nal City  must  have  made  a  deep  impression  upon 
him.  All  through  his  life  he  was  a  devout  church- 
man. As  soon  as  he  could  read,  which  was  not 
until  he  was  twelve  years  old,  he  learned  the  church 
service  by  heart.  Next  he  wrote  down  in  a  little 
book  certain  of  the  psalms  and  prayers,  which  he 
bore  with  him  constantly  in  his  bosom,  so  that  he 
might  feel  that  God  was  near  him  always  in  the 
stress  and  strain  of  his  life. 

For  Alfred  was  destined  to  see  stormy  times  in 
England,  which  called  him  away  from  his  books  out 
into  the  battlefield.  The  Danes,  those  wild  sea- 
men from  the  North,  came  down  upon  England  in 
their  black  ships  like  a  vast  flock  of  thieving  ravens. 
It  was  the  first  year  of  Alfred's  reign,  and  he  was 
only  twenty-three  years  old.  But  in  his  youthful 
heart  was  born  the  courage  to  gather  his  fighting 
men  and  lead  them  out  against  these  dreaded  in- 


43 

vaders.  Nine  times  he  went  to  battle  with  the 
Danes  during  the  first  year  of  his  reign.  When 
Alfred  was  victorious  the  Danes  made  treaties  with 
him  to  which  they  swore,  by  the  sacred  golden 
bracelets  on  their  arms,  that  they  would  be  true. 
But  when  they  had  regained  their  strength,  they 
broke  their  oaths  and  spread  once  more  over 
Alfred's  land,  plundering,  slaying,  and  burning 
wherever  they  could  make  their  way. 

Oftentimes  the  king  and  his  band  of  faithful 
followers  were  driven  far  into  the  waste  lands. 
There  is  a  strange  tale  of  an  adventure  which  befell 
Alfred  at  this  time.  He  had  been  forced  into 
Athelney,  where  there  was  no  food  to  be  had  except 
fish  and  game.  One  morning  when  the  men  were 
out  fishing,  the  king  was  left  alone  and  was  comfort- 
ing himself  in  his  loneliness  by  reading  from  his 
little  book  of  psalms.  Suddenly  he  felt  that  some 
one  was  near  him.  Looking  up,  he  saw  a  pilgrim 
standing,  who  looked  at  him  with  hungry  eyes,  and 
said:  "In  the  name  of  God  give  me  to  eat  and 
drink." 

The  kind-hearted  Alfred  called  his  servant,  and 
asked  him  what  food  there  was  in  the  tent. 

"  One  loaf  of  bread  and  a  little  wine,  sir,"  replied 
the  servant. 

"  Then    quickly  bring  it  hither,"  was  the  king's 


44 

answer,  "and  give  the  half  of  each  to  this  starving 
man." 

The  beggar  thanked  him,  and  a  few  moments 
later  was  gone.  But  the  bread  and  wine  were  left 
untasted,  and  at  evening  the  men  returned  with 
heavy  baskets. 

That  night  the  king  could  not  sleep  because  his 
thoughts  were  full  of  the  strange  pilgrim  who  had 
come  to  visit  him.  Suddenly  a  great  light  shone 
about  his  bed,  and  in  that  light  he  saw  an  old  man 
standing,  clad  in  priestly  robes  and  wearing  a  miter 
on  his  head. 

"  Who  art  thou  ?  "  questioned  the  king. 

Whereupon  the  old  man  made  answer,  "  I  am  he 
to  whom  thou  gavest  bread  and  wine  to-day.  I  am 
called  Cuthbert,  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  and  I  am 
come  to  tell  you  how  to  free  England  from  the 
Danes.  To-morrow  arise  with  trust  in  God  in  your 
heart.  Cross  over  the  river  and  blow  loudly  three 
times  upon  your  horn.  About  the  ninth  hour  of 
the  day  friends  shall  come  to  your  aid.  Then  shall 
you  fight  and  be  victorious." 

The  next  morning  Alfred  hastened  to  do  as  St. 
Cuthbert  had  commanded,  and  even  as  he  had 
spoken  it  came  to  pass. 

Still  there  were  many  more  hard  battles  fought 
between  Alfred  and  the  Danes,  and  never  did  the 


45 

king  succeed  in  driving  them  out  of  England. 
But  at  last  they  settled  north  of  Alfred's  kingdom, 
and  now  he  could  find  time  to  do  many  things  for 
his  people,  that  he  had  long  wanted  to  do.  He 
started  schools,  and,  as  there  were  few  English  books, 
he  translated  many  foreign  books  himself  for  his 
people.  Alfred  was  not  content  to  be  a  mere 
reader.  Whenever  he  found  a  beautiful  verse  or 
thought,  he  wished  to  share  it  with  some  one  else. 
One  book  of  which  he  was  particularly  fond  was  the 
writings  of  the  great  St.  Augustine.  This  book, 
Alfred  wrote,  was  like  a  great  forest,  and  he  loved 
to  wander  about  in  it,  cutting  down  here  a  beam, 
here  a  joist,  and  here  a  great  plank  with  which  to 
build  a  palace  for  his  soul.  "  For  in  every  tree,"  he 
said,  "  saw  I  something  needful  for  my  soul."  And 
more  than  that,  he  bade  every  man  who  could  to 
fare  to  that  serene  wood  to  fetch  beams  for  himself 
so  that  there  might  be  many  a  comely  house  built. 

Alfred  loved  justice,  too,  as  much  as  he  did  learn- 
ing. He  collected  the  laws  of  the  land  and  made 
his  people  abide  by  them.  There  was  a  saying  that 
during  Alfred's  reign  gold  chains  could  hang  across 
the  streets  and  no  one  would  steal  them. 

He  went  to  the  monks,  and  encouraged  them  to 
keep  a  chronicle  of  all  that  took  place  in  the  king- 
dom, and  so  we  have  to-day  the  history  of  those  far- 


46 

away  days.      It  is  chiefly  due  to  this  chronicle  that 

we  know  about  the 
life  of  this  great 
king,  who  said  when 
he  died :  — 

"  I  have  desired  to 
live  worthily  while  I 
lived,  and  after  my 
life  to  leave   to   the 

men  that  should  be  after  me  my  remembrance  in 

good  works." 

»ol*ioo — 


s-i 


C^EDMON,   THE   FIRST    ENGLISH    SINGER 

High  above  the  little  fishing  village  of  Whitby, 
in  the  seventh  century,  stood  an  old  wooden  church 
and  monastery.  It  was  a  beautiful  spot  to  live  in. 
Below  it,  on  the  one  hand,  was  the  blue  sea  with 
the  little  fishing  vessels  sailing  upon  it;  and  on  the 
other  stretched  the  wild  moors  and  meadows,  with 
the  River  Esk  running  through  them  to  the  sea. 

This  monastery  was  founded  for  both  monks  and 
nuns  by  a  beautiful  woman  whose  name  was  Hilda. 
She  was  a  very  good  woman,  spending  her  days 
teaching  and  helping  the  ignorant  and  poor.  The 
monks  and  nuns  loved  her  so  dearly  that  they  all 
called  her  "  mother." 


47 

In  the  monastery  on  long  winter  evenings,  the 
monks  and  servants  often  gathered  for  a  feast,  and 
afterward  told  or  sang  stories  and  songs.  There 
was  always  a  harp,  which  was  passed  from  one  to 
another,  and  each  in  turn  sang  some  lay.  There 
was  seated  at  one  of  these  feasts  one  evening  a 
middle-aged  man  who  cared  for  the  cattle  of  the 
monastery.  He  had  been  listening  eagerly  to  the 
songs,  but  when  he  saw  that  the  harp  was  coming 
soon  to  him,  he  was  greatly  afraid.  When  no  one 
was  looking,  he  slipped  out  of  the  room.  He  hur- 
ried sadly  down  the  cliff,  with  the  music  of  the  sea 
beating  below.  There  were  songs  in  his  heart,  but 
he  could  not  sing  them. 

But  that  night,  as  he  lay  sleeping  in  the  stable, 
suddenly  one  stood  by  him,  and  saluting  him,  said, 
"  Caedmon,  sing  me  something." 

And  he  answered,  "  I  know  not  how  to  sing,  and 
for  this  reason  left  I  the  feast." 

Then  the  other  said,  "  Nevertheless,  you  will  have 
to  sing  to  me." 

"  What  shall  I  sing  ?  "  Caedmon  replied. 

"  Sing,"  said  the  other,  "  the  beginning  of  things 
created." 

Then,  still  in  his  sleep,  Caedmon  began  to  sing  in 
verse  of  how  the  Lord  created  heaven  and  earth. 
When  he  awakened  the  next  morning,  he  remem- 


48 

bered  his  dream  and  the  verses  he  had  made.  As 
he  repeated  them  to  himself,  he  added  new  ones. 
He  had  suddenly  learned  to  put  into  words  the 
songs  that  had  been  hidden  in  his  heart.  He  was  so 
happy  that  he  told  one  of  the  other  servants  in  the 
monastery  of  his  new  gift. 

Soon  afterwards  he  was  taken  before  Hilda  and 
bidden  to  tell  his  dream.  When  Hilda  had  heard 
his  verses,  she  said  quietly,  "  Surely  this  is  the  gift  of 
God."  Then  she  read  Caedmon  another  story  from 
the  Bible,  and  bade  him  turn  it  into  verse.  This  he 
did,  and  then  Hilda  bade  him  become  a  monk  and 
live  in  the  monastery.  He  now  had  time  to  learn 
the  beautiful  stories  in  the  Bible,  and  one  after  an- 
other he  turned  them  into  sweet  verses.  He  sang 
the  history  of  the  Children  of  Israel,  their  captivity 
and  exile,  and  their  entrance  into  the  Promised 
Land.  And  later  he  sang  of  the  birth  of  Jesus 
in  the  lowly  manger  and  his  life  and  death  upon 
the  cross.  So  he  lived  many  years,  a  devout  and 
humble  man,  until  he  died  one  night  as  he  lay 
sleeping. 

But  his  songs  went  from  one  monastery  to  another, 
until  they  were  known  throughout  the  land.  They 
were  so  beautiful  that  they  inspired  many  other 
monks  to  write  verses,  but  none  could  write  so  well 
as  the  master,  Caedmon.     These  poems  are  called 


49 

"  The  School  of  Caedmon."  They  are  different 
from  the  poems  that  our  poets  write  to-day,  but  they 
are  poetry  because  they  too  are  full  of  beautiful 
thoughts  and  pictures. 

We  can  see  this  if  we  read  these  few  verses  which 
were  written  about  the  dove  that  Noah  let  fly  from 
the  ark :  — 

"Far  and  wide  she  flew, 
Glad  in  flying  free,  till  she  found  a  place, 
Fair,  where  she  fain  would  rest !     With  her  feet  she  stept 
On  a  gentle  tree.     Gay  of  mood  and  glad  was  she. 

Then  she  fluttered  feathers ;  went  a-flying  off  again, 

With  her  booty  flew,  brought  it  to  the  sailor 

From  an  olive  wood  a  twig ;  right  into  his  hand, 

Bore  the  blade  of  green. 

Then  the  chief  of  seamen  knew  that  gladness  was  at  hand." 


>><*=:< 


CANUTE,    THE    DANISH    KING 

The  years  that  followed  Alfred's  peace  were  years 
of  most  terrible  warfare.  Ever  and  again,  the 
mighty  black  ships  of  the  Danes  came  coasting  along 
England's  shores  and  sailing  boldly  up  the  rivers. 
And  wherever  the  Danes  went  they  left  a  trail  no 
less  black  than  their  ships,  a  trail  of  villages  burned 
to  the  ground.  Some  of  the  English  kings  met 
these  dreaded  invaders  in  battle;  and  some  of  them 

LIT.    STO.    OF   ENG.  —  4 


c,o 


bought  the  Danes  off  with  large  sums  of  money. 
The  Danes  took  the  money,  went  home,  and  waited 
only  until  they  could  gather  together  fresh  men 
and  build  new  boats  to  break  their  promises  and 
sweep  down  upon  England.  Finally,  in  despera- 
tion,- Ethelred,  the  English  king,  ordered  every 
Dane  left  in  England  to  be  slain.  Among:  those 
who  were  put  to  death  was  Gunhild,  the  sister  of 
Sweyn,  king  of  Denmark. 

"  My  death  will  bring  many  wars  upon  your  land," 
she  murmured  with  her  last  breath. 

This  prophecy  was  soon  fulfilled.  The  next  year 
Sweyn  himself  landed  in  England  to  avenge  the 
death  of  his  sister  and  countrymen.  Sweyn  had  a 
most  gorgeous  fleet.  The  beaks  of  his  ships  were 
of  brass ;  the  sterns  were  adorned  with  lions  of  gold, 
and  on  the  mastheads  were  birds  and  dragons  for 
weathercocks.  Sweyn  made  many  attacks  on  Eng- 
land, and  the  story  of  his  ravages  and  plundering  are 
terrible  to  read.  At  last  Ethelred,  who  was  called 
the  Unready,  had  to  leave  his  country,  and  Sweyn 
became  the  real  king  of  England.  But  Sweyn  died 
before  he  was  crowned. 

His  young  son,  Canute,  who  had  accompanied  his 
father  to  England  on  this  last  voyage,  now  took  up 
his  father's  work.  Soon  afterwards  Ethelred  the 
Unready    died,    and  his    son,     Edmund    Ironsides, 


5i 

claimed  the  English  crown.  These  two  sons 
fought  many  battles,  and,  when  at  last  both  forces 
were  worn  out,  they  met  on  a  small  island  and 
agreed  that  Canute  should  reign  over  Northern, 
and  Edmund  Ironsides  over  Southern,  England. 
Scarcely  had  these  terms  been  agreed  to  when 
Edmund  Ironsides  died,  and  all  England  was  left 
in  the  hands  of  a  Danish  king. 

It  might  be  thought  that  Canute,  who  had  been 
such  a  cruel  foe,  would  have  been  a  heartless  king; 
but  this  was  far  from  true.  When  his  people  swore 
obedience  to  him,  he  promised  to  rule  them  justly, 
and  he  kept  his  promise  well.  He  sent  his  Danish 
soldiers  home,  and  ruled  according  to  England's 
law.  He  built  churches,  and  was  a  good  friend  to 
the  monks  and  nuns.  He  even  made  a  pilgrimage 
to  Rome  to  pray  for  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins  and 
for  the  welfare  of  his  new  subjects.  Sometimes  he 
used  to  row  on  the  river  at  Ely  and  listen  to  the  chant- 
ing of  the  monks  in  the  great  cathedral.  When  the 
service  was  over,  he  bade  his  boatmen  sing  a  song 
as  they  plied  their  oars,  and  made  up  himself  this 
little  verse  for  them  to  sing :  — 

"  The  Ely  monks  sang  clear  and  high 
As  King  Canute  was  passing  by. 
1  Row  near  the  land  and  hear  them  sing,' 
Cried  to  the  boatmen  Canute  the  King." 


52 

Canute  loved  also  to  listen  to  the  songs  of  min- 
strels. One  evening  he  saw  a  stranger  at  the  feast. 
"  He  looks  like  a  poet,"  said  the  king  ;  "  bid  him  sing 
us  a  song."  The  stranger,  who  was  O there  the 
Black,  an   Icelander,  stepped  forth  and  asked  that 


Canute  listening  to  the  Monks  of  Ely. 

he  might  recite  a  poem  about  the  king.  Canute 
consented,  and  when  the  poet  had  done,  he  praised 
it  highly.  He  took  from  his  head  a  Russian  cap 
that  he  was  wearing,  a  cap  embroidered  with  gold, 
and  bade  his  chamberlain  fill  it  with  silver  for  the 
poet.  The  chamberlain  did  as  he  was  told,  but  in 
passing  the  cap  over  the  heads  of  the  great  crowd 
that  was  assembled,  some  of  the  silver  pieces  fell 
upon  the  floor.  He  stooped  to  pick  them  up,  but 
the    king's    voice    stopped    him.     "  The  poor  shall 


J^hs&Sr 


Canute  and  the  Rising;  Tide. 


54 

have  it,  and  thou  shalt  not  lose  thereby,1'  he  said 
to  Othere  the  Black. 

There  is  another  tale  that  we  read  in  the  old 
chronicles  about  the  Danish  king.  It  is  very 
quaintly  written :  — 

"In  the  very  height  of  his  power,  he  [Canute] 
bade  them  set  his  chair  on  the  shore  of  the  sea, 
when  the  tide  was  flowing;  and  to  the  tide,  as  it 
flowed,  he  said,  '  Thou  art  my  subject ;  and  the  land 
on  which  I  sit  is  mine;  nor  hath  there  ever  been 
one  that  resisted  my  bidding,  and  suffered  not.  I 
command  thee  therefore,  that  thou  come  not  up  on 
my  land,  nor  presume  to  wet  the  garments  and 
limbs  of  thy  lord.'  But  the  sea,  rising  after  its 
wont,  wretted  without  respect  the  legs  and  feet  of 
the  king.  Therefore,  leaping  back,  he  said,  '  Let 
all  dwellers  on  the  earth  know  that  the  power  of 
kings  is  a  vain  and  foolish  thing,  and  that  no  one 
is  worthy  to  bear  the  name  of  king  save  only  Him, 
whose  bidding  the  heavens,  and  the  earth,  and  the 
sea  obey  by  everlasting  laws.'  Nor  ever  thereafter 
did  King  Canute  set  his  crown  of  gold  upon  his 
head,  but  put  it  forever  on  the  image  of  our  Lord, 
which  was  fastened  to  the  cross." 


55 


WILLIAM    THE    CONQUEROR 

In  the  year  1066  the  king  of  England  lay  dead, 
leaving  no  heir  to  the  throne.  These  were  days 
when  England  needed  a  strong  leader,  for  invaders 
were  still  seeking  her  shores;  so  the  Witan,  or  council 
of  Wise  Men,  hastened  to  assemble  and  select  a  ruler. 
The  lot  fell  upon  Earl  Harold,  and  through  England 
and  through  Europe  rode  messengers  proclaiming 
"King  Edward  is  dead,  and  Earl  Harold  has  been 
chosen  king." 

Now  across  the  channel  from  England  in  France 
lies  a  fair  province  that  had  been  seized  and  settled 
by  the  men  of  the  North,  much  as  England  had  been 
by  the  Danes,  and  had  been  given  the  name  of 
Normandy.  The  Duke  of  Normandy  was  a  relative 
of  the  late  King  Edward,  and  it  was  claimed  that 
Edward  had  promised  him  the  English  crown.  There 
is  another  story  that  Earl  Harold  had  taken  an  oath 
to  help  Duke  William  claim  the  throne.  For  not 
many  months  before  King  Edward  died,  Earl  Harold 
was  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of  Normandy.  As  was 
customary  in  those  times,  he  was  taken  prisoner  and 
held  for  a  large  ransom.  Then  Earl  Harold  sent 
word  of  his  sorry  plight  to  the  duke,  and  besought 
him  to  free  him.  The  duke  had  the  English  earl 
brought  before   him,  and    bade  him    swear  on  the 


56 

Prayer  Book  that  he  would  help  him,  Duke  William, 
in  his  claim  to  the  English  throne.  Earl  Harold  took 
the  oath,  and  then  William  lifted  up  the  Prayer  Book 
and  showed  him  that  it  rested  upon  some  holy  relics. 
Such  an  oath  was  doubly  sacred.  Thus  did  Harold 
gain  his  freedom. 

Now  when  the  herald  brought  word  to  Normandy 
that  Harold  was  seated  on  the  English  throne,  Duke 
William  was  off  on  the  hunt.     Such  anger  flashed 


*/a  ikr/xn/\  *./\l 


VB1 1  h  AROLD-SACRAMENTVM-.FECIT: 
VV1LL6LMO  DVCI> 


bIChAROUD:DV 


Harold's  Oath. 
(From  Bayeux  Tapestry) 


from  his  eyes  that  no  one  dared  speak  to  him.  He 
laid  down  his  great  bow,  that  no  man  but  he  could 
draw,  and  strode  back  to  the  castle.  There  he  sat 
down  on  a  bench  in  the  great  hall,  and  leaned  his 
head  against  a  stone  pillar,  drawing  his  mantle  over 


57 

his  face.     His  companions  followed  him  in  silence, 
and  sat  down  about  him  in  the  great  hall.     Only 


The  Norman  fleet  set  sail. 


one,  bolder  than  all  the  rest,  dared  at  length  to 
speak.  "Arise  and  be  doing,"  he  cried.  "There  is 
no  need  for  mourning.  Cross  the  sea,  and  snatch 
the  kingdom  from  the  usurpers  hand." 

The  old  Viking  blood  was  aroused  in  William. 
He  sent  messengers  into  all  the  neighboring  coun- 
tries, offering  gold  and  castles  in  England  to  any 
man  who  would  come  and  serve  him  with  bow  and 
spear.  He  ordered  the  trees  of  the  Norman  forests 
to  be  hewn  down  and  ships  built  of  them.  He  sent 
word  to  the  Pope  that  Harold  had  broken  his  oath, 
and  asked  his  leave  to  punish  the  usurper.  The  Pope 
sent  back  his  consent  and  a  banner  which  he  had 
blessed. 

On  the  afternoon  of  September  27  the  Norman 
fleet  set  sail.     At  nine  the  next  morning  the  Mora, 


58 

William's  vessel,  lay  at  anchor  on  the  coast  of  Sussex. 
As  William  set  foot  on  English  soil,  he  stumbled  and 
fell,  and  his  men  gave  a  groan  at  this  omen  of  ill  luck. 
But  the  duke  seized  a  handful  of  sand,  crying,  "  By 
the  splendor  of  God,  I  have  taken  my  kingdom ;  see 
the  earth  of  England  in  my  two  hands." 

In  the  meantime  Harold  had  been  fighting  in  the 
North,  and  was  at  a  feast  celebrating  a  great  victory, 
when  word  came  that  the  Normans  had  landed  on 
his  shore.  With  all  speed  he  made  his  way  to  the 
South,  collecting  his  army  as  he  went.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  October,  in  the  year  1066,  the  English  and 
Normans  stood  face  to  face,  arrayed  for  battle.  The 
English  stood  on  a  hill,  every  soldier  covered  by  his 
shield  and  armed  with  his  huge  battle  ax.  In  the 
•midst  of  them  stood  the  noble  Harold,  on  foot,  hold- 
ing the  royal  banner. 

On  the  hill  opposite  were  drawn  up  the  Norman 
host.  In  front  ranged  the  archers  in  a  long  line; 
behind  them  the  foot  soldiers,  and  in  the  rear  the 
horsemen.  "  God  help  us  !  "  was  their  battle  cry ;  and 
it  sprang  from  many  hundred  lips. 

"  God's  Rood  !  Holy  Rood  !  "  answered  the  Eng- 
lish ;  and  they  waited  for  the  Normans  to  make  the 
attack.  A  tall  Norman  knight  rode  forth  alone  on 
a  prancing  steed,  tossing  his  heavy  sword  in  the  air 
and  catching  it  as  it  fell,  and  singing  songs  of  the 


59 


6o 

bravery  of  his  fellow  countrymen.  From  the  Eng- 
lish forces,  a  knight  rode  out  to  meet  him,  and  fell 
by  the  Norman's  hand.  A  second  English  knight 
advanced,  and  fell.  The  third  came  forth,  and  killed 
the  Norman.     The  battle  of  Hastings  had  begun. 

It  began  at  dawn  ;  at  sunset  it  was  still  raging. 
Once  the  cry  went  out  that  William  had  been  slain. 
Duke  William  instantly  snatched  his  helmet  from 
his  head,  and  shouting  "  I  live  ! "  rode  down  the 
front  of  his  line. 

At  last  'William  feigned  a  retreat.  The  excited 
English,  confident  in  their  victory,  rushed  upon  the 
Normans.     Then  the  Normans  turned  about. 

"  There  are  still  thousands  of  the  English  firm  as 
rocks  about  their  king.  Shoot !  "  was  William's  cry. 
And  the  Norman  arrows  fell  like  hail  on  the 
English  host.  The  Normans  won  the  day.  The 
English  found  their  king  among  the  slain,  and  knew 
that  their  cause  was  lost. 

On  Christmas  Day,  William,  Duke  of  Normandy, 
was  crowned  in  Westminster  Abbey  as  William  I 
of  England.  The  question  was  put  first  in  French 
to  the  Normans,  "  Will  you  have  William  for  your 
king?" 

They  answered,  "  Yea,  yea." 

Then  it  was  repeated  to  the  Saxons  in  English, 
and  their  reply  was  the  same,  "  Yea,  yea." 


6i 


In  fact,  so  loudly  did  the  Saxons  shout  their  an- 
swer that  the  Norman  guards  outside  mistook  it  for 


Coronation  of  William  the  Conqueror. 

an  outbreak.     They  began  to  set  fire  to  the  neigh- 
boring buildings,  and  a  great  tumult  arose.     The 


62 

crowd  rushed  out  of  the  church  in  terror,  and  Wil- 
liam was  left  alone  in  the  Abbey  with  a  few  priests, 
who  hastened  to  place  the  crown  upon  his  head. 

William  had  won  his  kingdom  by  might,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  keep  it  by  might.  He  brought  over 
many  Norman  nobles,  and  had  them  build  Norman 
castles  all  over  England  to  defend  him.  At  Lon- 
don he  built  the  Tower,  where  hundreds  of  armed 
men  stood  ready  to  put  down  any  rebellion. 

William  was  always  the  Conqueror,  and  his  rule 
in  England  was  severe.  Still  he  bound  the  English 
together  into  one  people,  as  they  had  never  been 
united  before.  Like  the  Roman  conquerors,  the 
Normans,  too,  did  much  for  England.  The  Nor- 
mans taught  the  English  how  to  build  better  build- 
ings ;  they  blended  their  Norman  French  with  the 
harsh  Anglo-Saxon  tongue,  and  gradually  the  new 
English  language  was  born. 

Yet  England  never  loved  the  Conqueror.  There 
was  no  grief  in  the  land  when  he  died.  He  met  his 
death  in  France,  where  he  was  at  war  with  the 
French  king.  True  to  the  old  Norman  fashion,  he 
had  plundered  the  town  of  Nantes  and  then  set  it 
on  fire.  Riding  over  the  ruined  city,  his  horse  set 
foot  on  some  glowing  embers,  reared,  and  William 
was  thrown  forward  against  the  pommel  of  his  sad- 
dle,   receiving  his   death    wound.     He    lay  for   six 


63 

weeks  in  a  little  monastery  near  Rouen,  where  he 
made  his  will,  leaving  England  to  his  son  William, 
Normandy  to  his  son  Robert,  and  a  large  sum  of 
money  to  Henry,  the  youngest.  The  sons  were  so 
anxious  to  seize  their  new  possessions  that  they  hur- 
ried away  without  waiting  for  their  father  to  die,  and 
William  the  Conqueror  was  buried  by  the  priests  in 
an  unknown  grave,  across  the  sea  from  the  land 
which  he  had  conquered. 


3XKC 


KING    HENRY   AND    THE    WHITE    SHIP 

Two  of  William's  sons  ruled  England  after  him  ; 
his  namesake  first,  who  was  called  William  Rufus 
because  of  his  red  beard,  and,  on  his  death,  Henry, 
who  bore  the  name  of  Beauclerc,  or  the  Scholar. 
William,  as  soon  as  he  heard  that  his  father  was 
dying,  came  hurrying  in  breathless  haste  to  Win- 
chester to  claim  his  throne.  This  same  greed 
showed  all  through  his  reign.  He  sought  to  get 
Normandy  away  from  his  brother  Robert,  and  thus 
brought  many  wars  upon  England.  There  was 
little  grief  felt  when  the  news  came  that  the  Red 
King  was  dead.  He  went  a-hunting  one  morning 
in  one  of  the  great  forests  that  his  father  had 
stocked  with  game.     A  single  companion  rode  out 


64 

by  his  side  into  the  wood.  That  evening  a  poor 
charcoal  burner  going  home  found  the  body  of  the 
king  shot  through  by  an  arrow. 

With  no  less  speed  than  William  had  shown  on 
his  father's  death,  Henry  now  hastened  to  Winches- 
ter to  seize  the  royal  treasury.  But  the  keeper  of 
the  treasury  refused  to  give  it  up.  Then  Henry  the 
Scholar  drew  his  sword  from  the  scabbard,  and 
threatened  to  kill  the  treasurer.  As  the  treasurer 
stood  alone  and  Henry  was  surrounded  by  a  group 
of  barons  who  were  determined  to  make  him  king, 
the  treasurer  stepped  aside,  and  Henry  took  the 
jewels  and  the  crown  for  his  own.  Three  days  later 
the  coronation  took  place  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
and  Henry  I  "  promised  God  and  all  the  people  to 
put  down  all  the  injustices  that  were  in  his  brother's 
time,  and  to  maintain  the  best  laws  that  stood  in 
any  king's  day  before  him." 

One  of  his  first  deeds  was  to  imprison  in  the 
Tower  Flambard,  or  Firebrand,  whom  the  Red 
King  had  made  Bishop  of  Durham.  His  reason  for 
doing  this  seemed  -to  be  because  Firebrand  had  been 
a  favorite  of  William  Rufus.  Firebrand  was  a  very 
jolly  man,  and  soon  had  won  the  friendship  of  all 
his  keepers  by  his  jokes  and  good  nature.  They 
pretended  not  to  see  a  long  rope  that  was  sent  into 
the  Tower  coiled  at  the  bottom  of  a  cask  of  wine. 


65 

The  guards  took  the  wine,  and  the  bishop  the  rope, 
and  the  next  morning  he  was  out  at  sea  on  his  way 
to  Normandy. 

In  Normandy  he  met  Robert,  Henry's  older 
brother,  who  had  been  away  on  a  crusade  at  the 
time  of  the  Red  King's  death.  Firebrand  and 
others  persuaded  Robert  that  he  should  have  been 
king  of  England  instead  of  Henry,  and  urged  him 
to  declare  war  upon  his  brother.  Most  of  the 
English  took  Henry's  side,  but  one,  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  went  over  to  Robert.  There  was,  how- 
ever, no  war.  Robert  was  a  gentle,  trusting  nature, 
and  when  his  brother  promised  to  pay  him  a  pension 
and  to  pardon  all  his  followers,  he  returned  home  to 
Normandy.  King  Henry's  way  of  keeping  his 
promise  was  to  first  banish  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury 
from  the  land.  The  earl  fled  to  Normandy,  where 
Robert  befriended  him. 

Meantime  Henry  had  but  been  waiting  for  an 
excuse  to  attack  Robert.  He  declared  now  that 
Robert  had  broken  the  treaty,  and  invaded  Nor- 
mandy, saying  he  had  come  to  free  the  Normans 
fcfrom  his  brother's  misrule.  Indeed,  affairs  were 
going  very  bad  in  Normandy,  for  Robert,  although 
good  and  kind,  was  not  a  ruler.  He  trusted 
all  men,  and  his  servants  were  quick  to  perceive 
this.     It   was    said    that   sometimes    he    had  to  lie 

LIT.  STO.  OF  ENG.  —  C 


66 

abed  all  day  because  his  servants  had  stolen  all  his 
clothes. 

But  he  headed  his  troops  now  like  a  brave  prince 
and  gallant  soldier,  and  went  to  the  war.  Fortune 
went  against  him,  however.  He  was  taken  prisoner, 
and  sentenced  by  his  brother  to  be  shut  up  for  life 
in  one  of  the  royal  castles.  He  was  allowed  to 
ride  out,  but  only  under  strict  guard.  One  morn- 
ing he  broke  from  the  guard  and  galloped  off.  He 
might  have  escaped,  but  that  his  path  crossed  a 
swamp.  The  horse  stuck  fast  in  the  marsh,  and 
the  royal  prisoner  was  taken  back  to  the  castle. 
When  Henry  heard  of  this,  he  ordered  him  to  be 
blinded. 

So  for  years  and  years  poor  Robert  lived  on  in 
his  dark  prison,  a  sad-hearted,  lonely  man,  glad 
enough  to  die  when  the  end  came. 

There  was  a  great  sorrow  in  store  for  King 
Henry  I,  in  spite  of  his  victories.  He  was  very 
eager  that  Normandy  should  always  belong  to  the 
English  king.  Thus  he  set  sail,  one  fair  day,  with 
his  only  son,  for  Normandy.  He  wished  to  have 
the  Norman  nobles  acknowledge  the  prince  as  their 
future  sovereign.  The  ceremony  was  performed 
with  great  pomp,  and  in  November  Henry,  his 
retinue,  and  the  prince  were  ready  to  embark  for 
England.     On  the  very  day  on  which  they  were  to 


67 


set  sail,  an  old  sea  captain,   Fitz  Stephen,  came  to 
the  king  and  said  :  — 

"  My  liege,  the  king,  my  father  served  your  father, 
the  great  William,  for  many  years  upon  the  sea. 
His  hand  was  at 
the  helm  of  the 
Boat  with  the 
Golden  Boy  that 
brought  the  Con- 
queror to  England. 
I  ask  of  you  this 
boon,  that  I  may 
carry  you  in  my 
boat,  the  White 
Ship,  across  the 
same  path  that  my 
father  bore  your 
father." 

"  It  grieves  me," 
replied  the  king, 
"  that  I  cannot 
grant  this  request; 
but  my  vessel  is  already  chosen  and  made  ready. 
I  will,  however,  intrust  to  your  White  Ship,  and 
your  hand,  the  prince  and  all  his  company." 

An  hour  later,  when  the  wind  was  fair,  the  king 
set  sail,  and  came  the  next  morning  safely  to  the 


"The  king  set  sail. 


68 

English  shore.  But  the  prince  delayed  his  sailing. 
He  loved  Normandy,  and  hated  England.  "  When 
I  am  king,"  he  had  once  said,  "  I  will  yoke  the 
English  to  the  plow  like  oxen."  He  did  not  sail 
until  night.  One  hundred  nobles  and  eighteen 
ladies  of  high  rank  came  on  to  the  White  Ship  to 
sail  with  him. 

"  Now  let  us  make  merry  before  we  leave,"  quoth 
the  Prince.  "  Let  each  of  the  fifty  sailors  have  his 
fill  of  wine.  We  have  time  yet  to  reach  England 
with  the  rest." 

They  made  merry  indeed.  The  sailors  drank  their 
flasks  of  wine,  and  the  noble  lords  and  ladies  danced 
on  the  deck  in  the  moonlight.  At  last  the  command 
was  given  to  sail,  and  Fitz  Stephen  stood  at  the  helm. 
The  Prince  cried  to  the  sailors  to  ply  their  oars  for 
the  honor  of  the  White  Ship. 

In  the  night  there  was  a  terrible  crash,  and  then 
the  White  Ship  stood  still.  She  had  struck  upon 
the  rocks.  Fitz  Stephen  hurried  the  Prince  into  a 
small  boat  with  some  nobles:  — 

"  Row  for  the  land  with  all  your  might,"  he  cried. 

But  as  they  were  rowing,  the  prince  heard  the  voice 
of  his  sister  Marie.  "  Row  back  —  back  at  any  risk," 
he  cried. 

The  rowboat  turned  back.  As  it  came  near  the 
sinking  ship,  a  hundred  or  more  nobles  and  seamen 


69 

rushed  forward  and  sprang  into  it.  It  was  the  one 
means  of  escape.  The  small  boat  upset,  and  the  sink- 
ing ship  went  down.  They  sank  together.  Only 
two  men  floated  on  the  sea,  clinging  to  the  broken 
mast. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  one. 

"  I  am  a  nobleman,  Godfrey  by  name ;  and  who 
are  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  Berold,  a  poor  butcher  of  Rouen." 

Then  they  added  in  one  breath  "  God  be  merci- 
ful to  us  both." 

Through  the  darkness  they  slowly  distinguished 
another  swimmer.  It  was  Fitz  Stephen.  "  Where 
is  the  prince?  "  he  cried. 

"  Drowned,"  was  the  answer.  Then  Fitz  Stephen 
cried,"  Woe  is  me,"  and  sank,  even  as  his  ship  had 
sunk. 

The  other  two  clung  to  the  mast  a  little  longer  un- 
til Godfrey's  hands  were  so  chilled  that  he  could  hold 
on  no  longer.  "  Farewell,  my  friend,  may  God  pre- 
serve you,"  he  said  feebly,  and  let  go.  Only  the 
butcher  survived  to  tell  the  terrible  tale.  Some  fisher- 
men found  him  the  next  morning,  more  dead  than 
alive,  floating  in  his  great  sheepskin  coat. 

For  three  days  no  one  was  found  brave  enough  to 
bear  the  sad  news  to  the  king.  At  last  a  little  boy 
was  sent  in,  but  he  could  only  weep,  and  finally  stam- 


;o 


mered,  "  The  White  Ship."  That  was  enough.  The 
king  understood,  and  though  he  lived  to  reign  seven 
years  longer  over  England,  he  was  never  seen  to  smile 


>XX< 


THOMAS    A    BECKET 

Once  upon  a  time  a  London  merchant,  Gilbert  a 
Becket,  went  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land. 
Before  he  reached  Jerusalem,  however,  he  and  his 
servant  Richard  were  both  captured  by  a  Saracen  lord. 
The  Saracen  had  one  daughter,  who  was  very  beau- 
tiful, and  who  straightway  fell  in  love  with  the  Eng- 
lish prisoner,  and  promised  to  help  him  to  escape  if  he 
would  carry  her  home  with  him  to  England.  Gil- 
bert's heart  was  touched  by  her  beauty  and  her  love, 
and  he  promised  to  wed  her  if  she  would  free  him. 
At  last  an  opportunity  of  escape  came,  and  Gilbert 
fled  from  the  Saracens,  quite  forgetting  in  his  haste 
both  the  Saracen  lady  and  his  promises  to  her.  But 
she  did  not  forget  him  so  soon.  Gathering  together 
her  jewels  and  gold,  she  dressed  herself  in  disguise, 
and  went  out  to  follow  him.  Two  English  words 
were  all  she  knew:  "  London  "  and  her  lover's  name, 
"Gilbert."  When  she  came  to  the  seacoast  she 
wandered  up  and  down  among  the  ships,  repeating 
over  and  over,  "  London,"  "  London,"  "  London  "  and 


7i 

showing  her  jewels.  Finally  the  sailors  understood 
that  she  wanted  to  go  to  London,  and  was  offering 
her  jewels  to  pay  her  passage.  So  they  put  her  in 
an  English  ship  and  bade  her  God-speed. 

One  day  Gilbert  a  Becket,  busy  in  his  counting 
house,  heard  a  great  noise  in  the  street.  He  looked 
out,  and  saw  a  great  crowd  gathered  about  a  lady 
dressed  in  the  bright-colored  costume  of  the  East. 
Just  then  Richard,  his  servant,  came  running  in, 
shouting:  "  Master,  master,  the  Saracen  lady  is  here 
in  London  going  up  and  down  the  streets  crying 
"Gilbert."  Gilbert  could  not  believe  the  words,  but 
he  looked  again,  and  his  eyes  told  him  that  Richard 
had  spoken  truly.  Then  he  bade  him  fetch  her  in; 
and  when  the  lady  saw  her  lover  she  fainted  in  his 
arms.  In  a  few  days  they  were  married.  They  had 
one  son,  Thomas,  who  became  the  favorite  of  King 
Henry  II  of  England.  Thomas  was  very  clever, 
very  brave,  and  very  rich.  When  the  king  made 
him  chancellor  of  England,  he  lived  in  state  almost 
equal  to  the  king.  He  was  sent  once  as  ambassador 
to  France,  and  when  he  entered  that  country  "his 
procession  was  headed  by  two  hundred  and  fifty 
boys.  Then  came  his  hounds  in  couples;  then  eight 
wagons,  each  drawn  by  five  horses  driven  by  five 
drivers;  two  of  the  wagons  filled  with  strong  ale  to 
be  given  away,  four  with  his  gold  and  silver  plate 


72 

and  stately  clothes ;  two  with  the  dresses  of  his 
numerous  servants.  Then  came  twelve  horses,  each 
with  a  monkey  on  his  back ;  then  a  train  of  people 
bearing  shields  and  leading  five  war  horses  splen- 
didly equipped;  then  falconers  with  hawks  upon 
their  wrists;  then  a  host  of  knights,  and  gentlemen 
and  priests;  then  the  chancellor  with  his  brilliant 
garments  flashing  in  the  sun,  and  all  the  people 
capering  and  shouting  with  delight." 

The  king  was  delighted  to  have  such  a  fa- 
vorite. He  thought  it  made  his  own  splendor 
greater    to  have  such  a  chancellor.      If    we    would 

o 

know  how  Henry  II  himself  looked,  we  must 
look  among  the  old  chronicles.  "  You  ask  me  to 
send  you  an  accurate  description  of  the  appearance 
and  character  of  the  King  of  England,"  writes  Peter 
of  Blois,  secretary  to  Henry  II.  "You  may  know 
then  that  our  king  is  still  ruddy,  except  as  old  age 
and  whitening  hair  have  changed  his  color  a  little. 
He  is  of  medium  stature  so  that  among  small  men 
he  does  not  seem  large,  nor  yet  among  large  men 
does  he  seem  small.  His  head  is  spherical,  as  if  the 
abode  of  great  wisdom.  .  .  .  His  eyes  are  full,  guile- 
less and  dovelike  when  he  is  at  oeace,  gleaming  like 
fire  when  his  temper  is  aroused,  and  in  bursts  of 
passion  they  flash  like  lightning.  .  .  .  His  feet  are 
arched  and  he  has  the  legs  of  a  horseman.     Although 


73 

his  legs  are  bruised  from  hard  riding,  he  never  sits 
down  except  when  on  horseback  or  at  meals.  .  .  .  He 
does  not  loiter  in  his  palace  like  other  kings,  but 
hurrying  through  the  provinces  he  investigates  what 
is  being  done  everywhere." 

This  was  King  Henry  II  of  England.  Such  a 
king  was  eager  to  be  sole  leader  in  the  land.  When 
Henry  found  that  the  churches  looked  to  their 
bishops  instead  of  to  him,  he  decided  to  make  his 
chancellor,  Thomas  a  Becket,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury. He  thought  that  through  him  he  would 
have  control  over  the  Church. 

Thomas  a  Becket  hesitated  to  accept,  but  his  long- 
ing for  fame  finally  made  him  consent.  Great  now 
was  Henry's  surprise  when  Thomas  suddenly 
changed  the  whole  manner  of  living.  He  turned 
off  his  brilliantly  clad  followers.  He  ate  coarse  food, 
dressed  himself  in  sackcloth,  and  washed  the  feet 
of  thirteen  pilgrims  every  day.  He  was  soon  talked 
about  as  archbishop  much  more  than  he  had  been  as 
chancellor. 

At  first  the  king  was  amused,  then,  when  Thomas 
strongly  took  the  side  of  the  Church  in  all  disputes 
between  the  clergy  and  the  crown,  the  king  grew 
angry.  A  great  quarrel  arose.  Finally  Thomas  a 
Becket,  disguised  as  poor  Brother  Deaman,  had  to 
'flee  to   Flanders.     After  many  years,   the  king  of 


74 

France  arranged  a  meeting  between  Henry  and 
Thomas  a  Becket,  to  try  to  bring  about  peace.  The 
quarrel  had  gone  on  for  six  years,  and  both  men  were 
utterly  weary  of  it.  They  decided  to  forget  the  past. 
The  archbishop  came  back  to  England,  although  he 
had  been  warned  that  he  should  not  live  to  eat  a 
loaf  of  bread  there. 

The  first  piece  of  news  that  reached  his  ears  on 
arriving  home  was  that  during  his  absence  Henry  II 
had  had  his  eldest  son  crowned.  This  so  enraged 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  that  he  at  once  ex- 
communicated the  bishops  who  had  performed  the 
coronation.  Henry  II  was  in  Normandy.  When 
word  was  brought  him  of  Becket's  deed,  he  cried  out 
before  all  his  court,  "  Will  no  one  deliver  me  from 
this  man  ?  " 

Four  knights  who  were  present  slipped  quietly 
out  of  the  room.  A  clay  or  so  later  they  appeared 
before  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  They  neither 
bowed  nor  spoke,  but  sat  down  upon  the  floor.  At 
length  Thomas  a  Becket  said,  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  That  you  take  off  the  excommunication  from 
the  bishops,"  was  their  reply. 

When  he  refused  they  went  out,  sullen  and  defiant. 
They  came  back  a  little  later,  fully  armed  and  with 
drawn  swords.  But  in  the  meantime  the  archbishop 
had  gone  into  the  cathedral  to  service.      His  servants 


75 

would  have  fastened  the  church  doors,  but  he  said, 
"  No.     This  is  God's  house  and  not  a  fortress." 

Even  as  he  was  speaking  the  four  knights  came 
through    the    door.      Their    sword    blades    flashed 


Thomas  a  Becket. 


through  the  darkness  of  the  church,  and  their  armed 
tread  resounded  as  they  came  over  the  stone  pave- 
ment.    "  Where  is  the  traitor  ?  "  they  shouted. 

Thomas  a  Becket  turned  where  he  stood,  beside 
a  great  stone  pillar,  but  he  made  no  answer. 

"  Where  is  the  archbishop  ?  "  they  thundered. 

"  I  am  here,"  answered  Becket  proudly. 

Then  they  slew  him,  then  and  there,  in  his  own 
cathedral. 


76 

When  the  king  learned  of  the  archbishop's  death, 
he  was  filled  with  dismay,  and  declared  that  his 
words  were  uttered  in  a  fit  of  temper,  and  he  had 
no  desire  that  they  should  be  fulfilled.  The  knights 
who  had  done  the  terrible  deed  fled  from  the  court, 
and  finally  for  penance  went  to  Jerusalem  where 
they  died. 

With  Thomas  a  Becket  dead,  Henry  II  could  rule 
very  much  as  he  pleased.  But  there  were  sad  days 
waiting  for  the  close  of  his  reign.  His  son  Henry, 
whom  he  had  had  crowned,  died,  and  his  other  two 
sons  revolted  against  him,  trying  to  seize  the  crown. 
When  Henry  II  saw  that  the  name  of  his  favorite 
son  was  among  the  conspirators,  he  leaned  his  face 
to  the  wall.  "  Let  things  go  now  as  they  will,"  he 
moaned ;  "  I  care  no  more  for  myself  or  the  world." 


>XKc 


RICHARD   I  — ENGLAND'S   ROYAL  CRUSADER 

In  the  year  11 88,  the  news  reached  Europe  that 
Jerusalem  had  again  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
Turks.  The  crusading  spirit  spread  across  the 
continent.  Even  the  kings  and  princes  pledged 
themselves  to  give  their  personal  aid  in  recapturing 
Jerusalem.  Among  the  foremost  to  give  his  promise 
was  Richard  of  the  Lion  Heart,  one  of  Henry's  re- 


77 


bellious  sons.     When,  a  year  later,  Henry  died,  and 

Richard     bethought 

him  of  all  his  cruel 

deeds    toward    his 

father,    he    was    the 

more  eager  to  go  to 

the     Holy      Land. 

The    crusade    wrould 

bring  him  full  pardon, 

he    believed,    for    all 

his  misdeeds. 

Richard  was 
crowned  in  West- 
minster Abbey  with 
great  ceremony.  He 
marched  into  the 
church  under  a  silken 
panoply,  stretched 
on  the  top  of  four 
lances,  each  carried 
by  a  mighty  lord. 
As  soon  as  the  cor- 
onation was  over,  he 
began  to  raise  money 

for  the  Crusade.        He  Richard  of  the  Lion  Heart. 

sold  the  lands  which 

belonged  to  the  crown.     He  sold  his  castles.     He 


v.p#y 

'■-..<  % 

*"*** 

^  Mm 

■      m 

1   m 

'B^^ 

i   A- 

J* 

78 

said  he  would  even  sell  London  itself,  if  he  could 
find  a  purchaser  whose  purse  was  long  enough.  At 
last  he  set  out  with  his  splendid  army,  leaving  his 
kingdom  in  the  care  of  two  bishops  and  his  brother 
John, 

Richard  stopped  first  at  the  island  of  Messina  in 
Sicily.  His  sister  had  married  the  king  there,  but 
he  had  died,  and  his  brother,  Tancred,  had  seized  the 
throne  and  put  the  widow  in  prison.  Richard  made 
it  his  first  duty  to  free  his  sister.  His  large  forces 
soon  frightened  Tancred  into  submission.  He  re- 
leased Richard's  sister,  restored  her  lands,  and  pre- 
sented her  with  a  golden  chain,  four-and-twenty 
silver  cups,  and  four-and-twenty  silver  dishes. 

So  when  peace  was  once  more  brought  about  in 
the  island,  Richard  sailed  on  to  Cyprus.  We  may 
well  imagine  that  the  restless,  burly  Richard  was 
only  too  glad  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  the  sovereign  of 
this  island.  Before  many  days  there  was  fighting, 
and  the  end  of  it  was  that  Richard  ordered  the  king 
to  be  bound  in  silver  fetters,  and  claimed  Cyprus 
for  his  own. 

These  exploits  of  Richard  made  Philip  of  France, 
wTho  was  also  on  his  way  to  the  Holy  Land,  very 
jealous.  Richard  and  he  had  been  great  friends, 
but  when  the  two  monarchs  met  now  at  Acre, 
neither    would    agree    with    the    other    as    to    the 


79 

best  time  to  make  an  attack  on  this  town.  The 
result  of  it  was  that  Philip  of  France  finally  gave 
up  the  crusade  and  returned  to  his  own  country. 

Richard  had  now  left  one  other  royal  ally,  the 
Duke  of  Austria,  and  before  very  long  he  had  quar- 
reled with  him.  There  came  a  pause  in  the  fighting, 
and  during  this  time  Richard  busied  his  men  by 
rebuilding  some  fortifications.  When  he  asked  the 
Duke  of  Austria  to  assist  in  this  task,  the  latter 
replied,  "  I  am  not  a  bricklayer."  Whereupon 
Richard  is  reported  to  have  kicked  the  duke,  who 
returned  to   Austria  in  a  rage. 

With  his  enemies,  Richard  managed  to  keep 
on  better  terms.  Saladin,  the  ruler  of  the  Sara- 
cens, was  a  finely  built  man,  as  stanch  and  brave 
a  fio-hter  as  the  lion-hearted  English  kine.  He  and 
Richard  both  admired  each  other,  and  when  they 
were  not  in  battle,  were  very  friendly. 

There  is  a  story  that  Richard  visited  Saladin 
in  his  tent,  and  was  boasting  of  his  skill  as  a 
swordsman. 

"  Come  now  and  show  us  what  your  royal  high- 
ness can  do!"  said  Saladin  at  last. 

Then  Richard  drew  his  sword,  and  with  one 
mighty  stroke  cut  in  two  one  of  the  huge  iron 
props  of  the  tent.  Saladin  and  all  his  court  ap- 
plauded  loudly.      Then   the   ruler   of   the    Saracens 


8o 




-A  ^ 

.»  *^*i 

:                "*{     ■       MJ"* 

'a 

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|^^^^^^ 

A 

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WW 

M^4i  1x3% 

fL^Lml     HI 

r.l  ^   ^ 

^HC^Sk'I  t^«it' * 

^"'|XX 

^^w&jf^r 

Richard  Fighting  the  Saracens. 


unsheathed  his  sword.  He  took  a  flimsy  veil  from 
the  neck  of  one  of  the  dancing  girls  who  sat  at  his 
feet,  and  tossed  it  into  the  air.  As  it  floated  down- 
ward, like  a  soft  cloud,  he  unsheathed  his  sword, 
and  with  a  deft  blow  cut  it  in  twain. 

Afterwards,  when  Richard  fell  ill  of  the  desert 
fever,  Saladin  sent  him  fruits  and  snow  and  ice 
which    had  been  brought  down  from   the   summit 


of  Mount  Lebanon.  Still  this  friendship  was  en- 
tirely forgotten  when  the  war  was  on,  and  many 
brave       English 


soldiers  were  left 
dead  upon  the  des- 
ert before  Richard 
turned  his  face 
southward. 

They  reached 
Jerusalem  at  last. 
But  rumors  of 
troubles  in  Eng- 
land had  come  to 
Richard's  ears,  and 
he  bethought  him 
that  it  was  time  for 
him  to  go  back 
and  look  after  his 
people.  He  stayed 
in  Palestine  only 
long  enough  to 
deliver  some 

Christians  whom 
the   Saracens   were 

besieging.  Then  he  signed  a  truce  with  the 
Saracens  to  last  three  years,  three  months,  three 
weeks,  and  three  days.      The  weather  was  threaten- 

LIT.  STO.  OF  ENG.  —  6 


A  Crusader. 


82 


ing,  but  the  impatient  Richard  heeded  neither  wind 
nor  tide.  He  set  sail  in  a  small  vessel  with  a  few 
followers,  only  to  be  shipwrecked  in  the  Adriatic 
Sea.  With  great  difficulty  he  succeeded  in  reaching 
land,  and  then  determined  to  make  his  way  home 
on  foot. 

As  he  had  to  go  through  Austria,  he  disguised 
himself  as  a  poor  pilgrim,  hoping  thus  to  escape  the 
notice  of  the  duke.  He  feared 
that  the  duke's  anger  had  not  sub- 
sided yet,  and  in  a  few  days  he 
learned  that  this  was  true.  Rich- 
ard was  recognized  by  a  ring  which 
he  always  wore.  He  was  taken 
prisoner  and  hidden  in  a  German 
castle. 

When  the  rumor  of  his  imprison- 
ment spread  over  Europe,  Philip 
of  France  and  Richard's  brother 
John  rejoiced  greatly.  They  be- 
gan to  plan  how  they  would  di- 
vide up  his  kingdom.  But  one 
heart,  so  an  old  story  goes,  beat  true  to  his  king. 
Blondel,  a  young  minstrel,  resolved  to  find  and  free 
his  master.  He  set  out  across  Europe,  earning  his 
daily  bread  by  singing  in  the  streets.  Every  time 
he  came  to  a  castle,  he  paused  and  sang  beneath  its 


Blondel  discovers 
Richard. 


83 

walls,  hoping  his  master  might  hear  him  and  reply. 
One  night  his  heart  was  very  sad,  and  beneath  an 
ivied  turret  he  sat  down  to  rest,  and  sang  softly  the 
first  verse  of  a  song  which  only  he  and  Richard 
knew.  As  he  finished  the  verse,  a  strong  voice 
from  within  the  tower  took  up  the  second  stanza. 
He  hastened  back  to  England  to  tell  the  people 
that   Richard  was  found. 

The  German  emperor  refused  to  free  Richard 
until  a  large  ransom  was  paid,  but  this  the  English 
people  quickly  raised,  and  King  Richard  returned 
to  his  throne. 

King  Richard  loved  a  fight.  He  found  plenty  of 
trouble  awaiting  him  at  home.  Then,  when  he  had 
settled  the  affairs  of  his  realm,  he  made  war  with 
France.  During  a  truce,  word  came  to  him  that  an 
English  lord,  the  Viscount  of  Limoges,  had  dug  up 
a  great  treasure  on  his  land,  twelve  knights  of  gold 
seated  at  a  golden  table.  Being  the  king's  vassal, 
and  an  honest  one  at  that,  he  immediately  sent  one 
half  of  the  treasure  to  his  king ;  but  the  king  de- 
manded the  whole.  When  the  viscount  refused  to 
give  it,  he  returned  to  England  and  besieged  his 
castle. 

Now  there  was  an  old  song  that  had  often  been 
sung  in  that  part  of  the  country,  saying  that  an  ar- 
row should  be  made  in  Limoges  by  which  Richard 


84 

should  die.  This  arrow  lay  in  the  quiver  of  Ber- 
trand  de  Gourdon.  From  his  post  within  the  castle 
he  could  easily  distinguish  the  king.  Richard's 
great  figure  towered  above  all  his  men.  Bertrand 
de  Gourdon  took  aim,  and  the  arrow  flew  to  its 
mark.  The  wound  was  not  fatal,  but  Richard  had 
to  retire  to  his  tent.  The  physicians  who  attended 
him  did  their  work  so  badly  that  it  soon  became 
known  that   Richard   was  dying. 

The  castle  was  taken,  and  all  who  had  fought 
against  the  king  were  put  to  death.  Only  one  life 
was  to  be  saved,  that  of  Bertrand  de  Gourdon.  He 
was  put  in  chains  and  brought  before  Richard.  He 
met  Richard's  bold  gaze  by  one  equally  bold. 
"  Knave,"  said  the  king,  "  what  did  I  ever  do  to 
thee  that  thou  shouldst  take  my  life?  " 

The  knight  pointed  to  the  ruined  castle.  "  Yon- 
der my  father  and  my  two  brothers  lie  slain  by  thine 
hand.  Myself  thou  wouldst  have  hanged.  Torture 
me  now  as  thou  wilt.  I  am  content,  since  through 
me  England  is  quit  of  such  a  king." 

A  gentle  note  came  into  the  king's  voice. 
"  Youth,"  he  said,  "  I  forgive  thee.  Take  off  his 
chains,"  he  said  to  his  guard;  "give  him  a  hundred 
shillings,  and  let  the  youth  go  free." 

He  sank  down  on  his  couch  and  died.  And  the 
officers,  who  had  truly  loved  their  lord,  heeded  not 


85 

his  last  command,  but  in  their  grief  hanged    Ber- 
trand  who  had  slain  Richard  of  the  Lion  Heart. 


3^< 


ROBIN    HOOD    OF    SHERWOOD    FOREST 

It  was  in  the  days  of  King  Richards  reign,  that 
Robin  Hood,  England's  boldest  outlaw,  lived  in 
Sherwood  Forest,  with  his  famous  archers,  all  clad 
in  Lincoln  green.  The  lieutenant  of  Robin  Hood's 
band  was  named'  Little  John  because  of  his  size. 
They  say  that  he  stood  seven  feet  high  or  more, 
and  measured  an  ell  around  the  waist.  And  this  is 
the  manner  in  which  Robin  Hood  first  met  Little 
John. 

The  hunting  was  poor  in  Sherwood  Forest,  and 
Robin  Hood  had  told  his  men  that  he  would  go  out 
alone.  He  made  his  way  through  the  wood  and 
was  crossing  a  stream  on  a  narrow  foot  bridge  when 
he  met  a  stranger  half  way.  Neither  would  give 
way  to  let  the  other  pass.  Then  Robin  Hood  grew 
angry  and  drew  his  bow  to  shoot  the  man.  But  the 
stranger  spoke  up  boldly  :  — 

"  You  are  indeed  a  fine  fellow  to  shoot  at  a  man 
who  has  naught  with  him  but  a  staff." 

"  That  is  just,  truly,"  replied  the  outlaw  ;  "  and 
so  I  will  lay  down  my  bow  and  arrow  and  get  me  a 


86 


staff  like  thine  to  try  if  thy  deeds  be  as  good  as  thy 

words." 

So  saying,  he  went  into  a  thicket  and  cut  himself 

a  young  oak  sapling  and  returned  to  the  foot  bridge. 

" Now  I  am 
your  match,"  he 
cried,  "  and  whoso 
shall  first  knock 
the  other  into  the 
water    shall     be 


awarded    the 
tory." 


vic- 


So  they  sparred 
together  with  their 
staves  right  mer- 
rily. First  Robin 
smote  the  stranger 
such  a  blow  that  it 
warmed  his  blood 
from  top  to  toe,  and 
u  their  sticks  rattled 
as  if  they  had  been 
threshing  corn."  But  the  stranger  had  the  greater 
strength.  He  brought  his  stave  down  on  Robin's 
head  with  such  force  that  the  outlaw  fell  headlong 
into  the  stream.  Then  the  stranger  laughed  loud 
and  long.    Looking  down  into  the  water,  he  cried:  — 


Robin  and  Little  John. 


8; 

"  Where  are  you  now,  my  good  fellow  ?  " 

And  Robin  answered  as  he  waded  to  the  shore, 
"  I  grant  that  thou  hast  won  the  day." 

Then  he  raised  his  horn  to  his  lips  and  blew  a 
blast.  And  at  that,  fifty  bowmen,  clad  in  green, 
sprang  out  of  the  wood  and  rallied  about  them. 

"  Why,  master,  ye  are  wet  to  the  skin,"  cried  one 
of  his  men.     "  What  may  this  mean  ?  " 

"  Naught,"  responded  Robin,  "  save  that  that 
fellow  on  yonder  bridge  tumbled  me  into  the 
water." 

Then  the  men  would  have  seized  the  stranger 
and  ducked  him,  but  Robin  forbade  them. 

"  No  one  shall  harm  thee,  friend,"  he  said,  "  of 
all  these  my  bowmen  ;  but  if  you  will  be  one  of 
us,  you  shall  straightway  have  my  livery.  What 
say  you  ?" 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  stranger.  "  Here  is 
my  hand  upon  it.  My  name  is  John  Little,  and  I 
will  be  a  good  man  and  true  to  you." 

Then  Robin  took  his  hand,  and  laughing,  said, 
"  Not  John  Little,  but  Little  John,"  for,  as  I  told 
you,  he  stood  seven  feet  and  measured  an  ell  about 
the  waist.  And  then  and  there  they  christened  him 
Little  John,  and  he  lived  ever  in  the  green  wood 
with  Robin  Hood. 

Now  the  bold  and  merry  deeds  of   Robin   Hood 


88 


and  his  men  were  told  throughout  the  land,  and  came 
even  to  the  ears  of  the  king.  They  pleased  King 
Richard,  and  made  him  wish  to  meet  the  outlaw. 
So,  taking  a  dozen  of  his  men,  he  dressed  them  all 
and  himself  in  friars'  gowns  and  rode  out  one  morn- 
ing across  to  Sherwood  Forest.     They  had  hardly 

entered  the  wood 
when  they  came 
upon  Robin  Hood 
and  his  fifty  yeo- 
men drawn  up 
ready  to  assail 
them.  With  a  bold 
step  Robin  came 
forward,  and  seized 
the  bridle  of  the 
king's  horse,  and 
bade  him  halt. 
As  Richard  was 
the  tallest,  Robin 
thought    that    he 

Robin  and  King  Richard.  was  the  abbot. 

"  Now  stand,"  cried  Robin,  "  for  it  is  against  ye 
and  all  like  ye  that  we  make  war." 

"  But,"  answered  Richard,  "  we  are  messengers 
from  the  king,  who  is  waiting  not  far  off  to  speak 

to  you," 


89 

"  God  save  the  king  !  "  quoth  Robin,  taking  off 
his  cap,  "and  all  who  wish  him  well!  And  ac- 
cursed be  every  man  who  does  not  acknowledge 
that  he  is  king." 

Then  replied  the  king,  "  You  curse  yourself,  for 
you  are  a  traitor." 

The  angry  look  leaped  into  Robin's  bold  eye, 
and  he  held  the  bridle  fast.  "  Were  ye  not  the 
king's  messenger,  ye  should  rue  that  word,"  he  an- 
swered;  "for  I  never  harmed  an  honest  man  in  my 
life,  but  only  those  who  steal  goods  from  others. 
And,  as  you  are  the  king's  messengers,  I  bid  you 
welcome  in  Sherwood  Forest,  and  invite  you  to 
come  and  share  our  greenwood  cheer." 

He  brought  the  king  to  his  tent,  and  there  he 
blew  upon  his  horn.  Five  score  and  ten  of  Robin 
Hood's  men  answered  to  the  call,  and  knelt  before 
their  leader.  And  they  laid  a  dinner  for  the  king 
and  his  lords,  who  swore  that  they  had  never  tasted 
a  better.  Then  Robin  took  a  can  of  ale,  and  cried, 
"To  the  king!  Let  each  man  drink  the  health  of 
the  king."  And  they  all  drank,  even  the  king  to 
himself. 

After  dinner  the  yeomen  took  their  long  bows, 
and  showed  the  king  such  archery  as  he  never  had 
seen  before  even  in  foreign  lands.  Then  said  the 
king  to  Robin  Hood  :  — 


90 

"  If  I  could  get  thee  pardon  from  King  Richard, 
wouldst  thou  serve  the  king  well  in  all  that  thou 
didst  ? " 

"  Yea,  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Robin ;  and  so  said 
all  his  men. 

Then  Richard  said,  "  I  am  your  king,  who  is  now 
before  you." 

And  at  these  words  Robin  Hood  and  all  of  his 
men  fell  on  their  knees ;  but  the  king  bade  them 
stand,  and  told  them  they  should  all  be  pardoned  if 
they  would  enter  his  service.  So  Robin  Hood  and 
all  his  men  went  up  to  London  to  serve  the  king. 

But  it  was  in  Sherwood  Forest  that  Robin  met 
his  death.  There  was  a  battle,  and  Robin  was 
sore  wounded.  Then  spoke  he  to  Little  John,  his 
trusted  friend :  — 

"  Now  truly  I  cannot  shoot  one  shot  more,  so 
I  will  go  to  my  cousin,  the  abbess  in  Kirkley 
Hall,  and  bid  her  bleed  me,  for  I  am  grievously 
wounded." 

Then  he  left  Little  John,  and  went  alone  to  the 
abbev,  and  he  was  so  weak  when  he  reached  there 
that  he  could  scarce  knock' upon  the  door. 

"  My  cousin,  ye  see  how  weak  I  am,"  he  said  to 
the  abbess.  "  I  bid  ye  bleed  me  that  I  may  not 
die." 

And    his   cousin    took   him   to    an    upper    room, 


9i 

where  she  laid  him  upon  a  bed  and  bled  him. 
But  she  hated  Robin  Hood  because  of  his  wild 
pranks,  and  so  did  not  tie  up  the  vein  again.  Then 
Robin  knew  that  his  life  was  flowing  out  of  him, 


Death  of  Robin. 

and  sought  to  escape  from  the  abbey,  but  he  could 
not  because  he  was  so  weak.  Knowing  that  he 
must  die,  he  raised  his  horn  to  hear  once  more  the 
bugle  call. 

Afar  in  Sherwood  Forest  Little  John  heard  the 
blast,  and  said,  "  Alack  and  alas !  Robin  must  be 
near  his  death,  for  his  blast  is  very  weak." 

He  got  up  from   under   the   tree  where  he  was 


92 

resting,  and  ran  to  Kirkley  Hall  as  fast  as  his  long 
legs  could  bear  him.  The  door  to  the  abbey  was 
locked,  but  Little  John  broke  it  down  and  came  to 
his  master.  He  saw  him  lying  upon  the  bed,  and 
his  face  was  strangely  pale. 

"  Good  master,  I  beg  one  boon,"  cried  Little 
John,  as  he  fell  upon  his  knees.  "  Let  me  burn 
Kirkley  Hall  and  the  nunnery  to  the  ground !  "  for 
he  saw  that  treachery  had  been  done  to  Robin  Hood. 

But  Robin  Hood  said,  "  Nay,  I  cannot  grant 
you  your  boon,  for  never  in  my  life  have  I  harmed 
a  woman,  nor  shall  it  be  done  for  my  sake  after  I 
die.  But  I  would  ask  a  boon  of  you.  Give  me  my 
long  bow  and  arrow,  and  open  wide  the  casement." 

Then  Robin  drew  his  bow  for  the  last  time,  and 
let  the  arrow  fly. 

"It  lieth  in  the  greenwood,"  quoth  Robin.  "Find 
it,  Little  John,  and  where  ye  shall  find  it  there  dig 
my  grave.  Make  it  long  and  broad,  that  I  may  lie 
easily.  Place  my  head  upon  a  green  sward  and  my 
long  bow  at  my  side." 


^o^« 


JOHN    AND   THE   GREAT   CHARTER 

England  has  never  been  ruled  by  a  worse  king 
than  John.     In  all  history  we  cannot  find  one  good 


93 

deed  recorded  of  him.  He  rebelled  against  his 
father,  Henry  II,  when  he  was  king.  He  was  false  to 
his  brother  Richard  when  he  was  in  the  Holy  Land. 
He  stole  the  English  crown,  which  belonged  by 
right  to  Richard's  little  nephew ;  and  then  he  filled 
his  reign  with  unjust  and  dishonest  deeds. 

One  of  John's  worst  faults  was  that  he  had  a  ter- 
rible temper.  There  is  an  old  story  that  once  when 
he  was  on  a  hunting  trip  he  lost  his  way  in  a  swamp 
near  Olmwick.  So  angry  was  he  over  this  misfor- 
tune that  he  swore  to  himself  that  every  free  man  in 
the  town  should  have  the  same  experience.  Conse- 
quently when  the  young  men  of  Olmwick  became  of 
age,  they  were  obliged  to  dress  themselves  in  their 
best  clothes  and  go  down  and  wade  through  this 
muddy  swamp. 

It  is  not  surprising  to  learn  that  a  man  with  such 
a  temper  was  continually  quarreling.  One  of  his 
greatest  quarrels  arose  over  the  appointing  of  a  new 
archbishop  of  Canterbury.  John  chose  one  man. 
The  bishops  chose  another.  When  the  matter  was 
sent  to  the  Pope  to  be  decided,  he  chose  a  third, 
Stephen  Langton.  Now  John  hated  Langton  because 
he  was  a  good  and  holy  man.  He  refused  to  let 
Langton  act  as  archbishop.  Then  the  Pope  showed 
his  power.  He  placed  England  under  an  interdict. 
For  six  years  no  church  bells  sounded  in  the  land. 


94 

No  services  were  held  in  the  churches.  It  was  not 
even  allowed  to  read  the  burial  service  for  the  dead. 
But  John  did  not  care.  Even  when  the  Pope  went 
further  and  deposed  John,  giving  his  kingdom  to 
Philip  of  France,  the  king  only  laughed.  But  John 
was  always  a  coward.  When  he  saw  that  an  army 
was  being  collected  to  invade  England,  he  became 
frightened.  He  begged  the  Pope's  forgiveness;  he 
promised  to  receive  Langton;  he  laid  his  crown  at 
the  feet  of  the  papal  legate  to  show  that  he  yielded 
his  kingdom  to  the  Pope;  and  he  promised  to  pay  a 
yearly  tribute.  The  Pope  at  once  removed  the  inter- 
dict, and  forbade  Philip  to  bring  his  army  across 
the  Channel.  John  felt  now  that  all  was  well  once 
more. 

But  the  English  barons  were  far  from  pleased  at 
John's  deeds.  They  did  not  wish  to  become  vassals 
of  the  Pope.  They  wanted  England  to  be  a  free 
land  and  they  themselves  to  be  freemen.  They  saw 
that  John  had  no  real  love  for  the  English  people. 
They  despised  his  cowardice.  At  last  they  united 
under  the  leadership  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, and  demanded  of  John  that  he  sign  a  paper, 
stating  what  were  the  rights  of  the  English  people, 
and  restoring  to  them  their  tributes.  When  the 
king  read  the  paper,  he  went  half  mad  with  rage. 
"  Why  do  they  not   ask  me  for  my  kingdom  ?  "    he 


95 

cried  out.  "  I  will  never  grant  such  liberties  as  will 
make  me  a  slave." 

The  archbishop  brought  back  the  king's  refusal. 
The  barons  then  formed  into  a  great  army,  which 
they  called  "  The  Army  of  God  and  the  Holy  Church," 
and  marched  against  London.  London  threw  open 
her  gates,  and  other  towns  were  quick  to  follow  her 
example.  The  king  was  taken  quite  by  surprise.  Only 
seven  knights  had  remained  on  his  side.  He  agreed 
to  meet  the  barons  on  an  island  in  the  Thames,  at 
the  meadows  of  Runnymede,  on  the  fifteenth  of  June. 

On  that  date  the  barons  and  their  army  were 
gathered  on  one  bank  of  the  river.  The  king  was 
encamped  on  the  other.  Delegates  from  both  sides 
were  sent  to  the  island.  The  Great  Charter  was 
talked  over,  and  that  very  day  King  John  put  his 
sign  and  seal  to  it.  He  did  not  dare  do  otherwise. 
Copies  of  the  charter  were  sent  through  the  land,  to 
be  posted  in  all  the  cathedrals,  and  one  copy  still 
remains  to-day,  brown  with  age,  one  of  the  greatest 
treasures  of  the  British  Museum. 

The  barons  knew  that  John,  who  had  so  often 
broken  his  word,  would  not  keep  these  promises  un- 
less they  forced  him  to.  So  before  they  parted,  they 
appointed  twenty-four  barons,  whose  duty  it  should 
be  to  see  that  John  ruled  according  to  the  charter, 
and  to  declare  war  upon  him  if  he  failed  to  do  so. 


96 


King  John  signing  the  Great  Charter. 


"They  have  given  me  four  and  twenty  overkings," 
cried  John,  throwing  himself  on  the  floor  in  another 


97 

fit  of  rage.  Surely,  such  a  king  had  need  of  over- 
kings.  But  nothing  could  hold  John  to  his  word. 
He  broke  his  promises,  and  then  sent  secretly  to 
Europe  for  an  army  of  foreign,  paid  soldiers.  The 
barons  as  a  last  resort  called  Louis,  the  son  of  the 
King  of  France,  to  come  and  rule  over  them.  As 
soon  as  Louis  landed,  King  John  fled.  He  always 
ran  away  as  soon  as  a  battle  began.  There  was  the 
greatest  confusion  throughout  the  land.  In  the 
midst  of  it  all  King  John  died.  He  was  crossing  a 
dangerous  quicksand  called  the  Wash,  when  the  tide 
came  up  and  nearly  drowned  his  army.  The  royal 
treasure  was  swept  away,  and  horses  and  baggage 
carried  off  in  the  swift  current.  Cursing  his  ill.  luck, 
the  king  hurried  on  to  Swinestead  Monastery.  The 
monks,  knowing  his  fondness  for  good  things  to  eat, 
put  before  him  ripe  peaches  and  pears  and  beer. 
The  king  devoured  this  repast,  and  the  next  day  lay 
ill  with  a  burning  fever.  A  horse  litter  was  made 
ready  in  all  haste,  and  the  king  carried  to  the  nearest 
castle.  A  few  days  later  he  died,  and  England  was 
free  from  as  bad  a  king  as  ever  sat  upon  the  English 
throne. 


LIT.    STO.    OF   ENG. 


98 


HENRY    III 


The  jeweled  crown  had  been  lost  in  the  flood 
with  the  other  royal  treasure,  so  John's  little  son 
was  crowned  with  a  circle  of  plain  gold. 

"  We  have  been  the  enemy  of  this  child's  father," 
said  Lord  Pembroke  at  the  coronation;  "  and  he 
merited  our  ill  will ;  but  the  child  himself  is  inno- 
cent, and  his  youth  demands  our  friendship  and 
protection." 

So  the  ten-year-old  boy  was  crowned  Henry  III 
of  England,  and  Lord  Pembroke  chosen  as  regent, 
to  rule  until  Henry  should  become  of  age. 

Lord  Pembroke's  first  act  was  to  promise  to  rule 
according  to  the  Great  Charter.  That  brought 
many  of  the  barons,  who  had  revolted  against  John, 
over  to  his  side.  Yet  there  were  Prince  Louis  of 
France  and  his  followers  still  in  the  land.  But  at 
last  they  were  defeated  in  a  sea  fight,  and  Prince 
Louis  went  back  to  his  own  country,  so  poor,  it  is 
said,  that  he  had  to  borrow  money  from  the  citizens 
of  London  to  pay  his  traveling  expenses. 

At  the  end  of  three  years  Lord  Pembroke  died 
and  two  protectors  were  chosen  to  look  after  the 
affairs  of  the  kingdom,  Peter  de  Roches,  and  Hu- 
bert de  Burgh,  who  defeated  the  fleet  of  Prince 
Louis.      These  two  personages  did    not    like    each 


99 

other,  and  when  the  king  became  of  age  Peter  de 
Roches  retired  and  went  abroad.  After  an  absence 
of  ten  years  he  returned.  The  king,  in  the  mean- 
time, had  grown  tired  of  Hubert,  and  welcomed  De 
Roches.  He  sought  to  find  some  way  of  getting  rid 
of  Hubert.  Finally  he  accused  him  of  misusing 
some  of  the  funds  in  the  royal  treasury.  Hubert, 
seeing  that  he  had  fallen  out  of  favor,  fled  to  an  ab- 
bey instead  of  answering  the  charges.  Then  Henry 
summoned  the  Mayor  of  London,  and  said :  "  Take 
twenty  thousand  citizens,  and  drag  Hubert  de  Burgh 
out  of  that  abbey,  and  bring  him  to  me."  Some  of 
his  father's  violent  temper  lived  on  in  Henry. 

But  a  friend  of  Hubert's  warned  Henry  that  the 
abbey  was  sacred,  and  he  had  no  right  to  harm  Hu- 
bert there.  So  Henry  called  the  mayor  back,  and 
proclaimed  that  for  four  months  Hubert  should  be 
free  to  go  as  he  chose  and  prepare  his  defense. 
Hubert  came  out  of  the  abbey,  and  Henry  pro- 
ceeded to  break  his  word,  just  as  his  father  had  done 
before  him.  He  ordered  one  Sir  Godfred  and  his 
Black  Band  to  seize  Hubert.  Hubert  was  in  bed 
when  he  saw  them  coming.  He  leaped  out,  ran  to 
the  nearest  church,  and  stood  there  breathless.  He 
was  within  the  sanctuary.  But  the  Black  Band 
cared  nought  for  the  rights  of  the  Church.  They  fol- 
lowed through  the  open  door,  and  dragged   Hubert 


IOO 

out  into  the  daylight.  With  swords  flashing  above 
Hubert's  head,  they  commanded  the  blacksmith  of 
the  town  then  and  there  to  rivet  a  set  of  chains  upon 
him.    The  smith  took  one  look  at  the  prisoner's  face. 

"  This  is  the  brave  Earl  Hubert  de  Burgh,  who 
destroyed  the  French  fleet  and  has  done  his  coun- 
try much  good  service.  You  may  kill  me,  if  you 
like,  but  never  a  chain  will  I  forge  for  Earl  Hubert 
de  Burgh." 

The  Black  Band  kicked  him  aside  in  disgust,  and 
had  to  be  content  with  tying  Earl  Hubert  on  horse- 
back and  carrying  him  off  to  London  Tower. 
Thereupon  the  bishops  became  very  angry  because 
the  king  had  violated  the  sanctuary  of  the  church. 
They  frightened  Henry  into  releasing  Hubert  and 
sending  him  back  to  the  little  church  where  he  had 
taken  refuge.  Henry  did  this,  but  he  told  the  Black 
Band  not  to  let  Hubert  escape.  A  deep  trench  was 
dug  about  the  church,  and  a  high  fence  built.  The 
Black  Band  guarded  it  day  and  night.  For  thirty- 
nine  days  Sir  Hubert  held  out.  Then  hunger  drove 
him  forth  from  the  church,  and  he  gave  himself  up. 
Once  more  the  Black  Band  carried  him  off  to  the 
Tower.  He  was  tried,  and  after  some  months  of 
imprisonment  was  finally  pardoned  and  his  place 
restored  to  him.  This  was  the  unhappy  story  of  a 
king's  favorite. 


IOI 


102 


As  Henry  grew  older,  he  seemed  to  grow  more 
and  more  like  his  father.  He  was  not  so  cruel,  but 
he  was  cowardly,  and  he  hated  the  Great  Charter. 
His  greatest  desire  seemed  to  be  to  squeeze  the 
pocketbooks  of  rich  and  poor  throughout  his  realm 
into  the  royal  treasury. 

In  desperation,  one  day  in  May,  the  clergy  and 
the  barons  met  together  in  Westminster  Hall,  each 
one  holding  a  burning  candle  in  his  hand.  The 
king  was  present  too,  and  the  archbishop  read  in 
his  most  solemn  voice  the  solemn  words  that  any 
man  in  England  who  should  infringe  the  Great 
Charter  should  be  excommunicated,  that  is,  cut  off 
from  all  the  privileges  of  the  Church.  When  he  had 
finished,  there  was  a  hush  through  the  great  hall. 
Then  all  together  the  barons  and  the  clergy  put  out 
their  candles,  and  uttered  a  curse  upon  any  man  who 
should  deserve  this  punishment.  Solemnly  the  king 
arose  and  promised  to  abide  by  the  Great  Charter. 
"  I  promise  to  do  so,"  he  said,  "as  I  am  a  man,  as  I 
am  a  Christian,  as  I  am  a  knight,  as  I  am  a  king." 

The  king  made  this  promise  without  hesitation, 
and  without  hesitation  he  broke  it.  The  barons 
soon  saw  that  they  must  deal  with  him  as  they  had 
with  his  father.  When  Parliament  assembled  the 
next  time,  every  man  appeared  clad  in  armor  from 
top  to  toe. 


103 

The  story  of  the  king's  struggle  with  his  barons 
is  a  long  one.  The  great  bell  of  St.  Paul's  at  Lon- 
don was  tolled  to  summon  the  people  to  war  against 
their  king.  Simon  de  Montfort,  the  Earl  of  Leices- 
ter, put  himself  at  their  head,  and  with  his  other 
forces  marched  to  Lewes,  where  Henry  and  his  son 
Edward  lay  in  camp  with  their  army.  Before  the 
battle,  the  Earl  of  Leicester  stood  up  before  his 
men,  and  said  that  Henry  III  had  broken  so  many 
oaths  that  he  had  become  the  enemy  of  God,  even  as 
the  Turks.  Therefore  he  bade  them  wear  white 
crosses  on  their  breasts,  and  fight  not  as  against 
Christians,  but  as  against  infidels.  The  next  morn- 
ing they  went  into  battle  wearing  their  white 
crosses.  The  king  and  the  prince  were  both  taken 
prisoners. 

The  prince  was  always  treated  like  a  prince,  but  he 
was  never  allowed  to  go  out  without  the  Earl  of  Leices- 
ter's attendants.  One  afternoon  he  rode  out  under 
their  guard  into  the  country.  When  they  came  to  a 
fine,  level  piece  of  turf,  the  prince  suggested  that  this 
would  be  a  good  place  to  race  their  horses.  He  him- 
self did  not  race,  but  was  the  umpire.  As  they  were 
riding  home,  chatting  merrily  over  their  horses,  sud- 
denly a  strange  rider  on  a  gray  steed  rode  up  over 
the  top  of  the  hill,  and  waved  his  hat  once  in  the 
air. 


104 

"  What  signal  is  that  ?  "  asked  the  attendants  one 
of  another.  And  while  they  were  puzzling  their  heads 
about  it,  the  prince  put  spurs  to  his  horse  andgalloped 
away  to  the  stranger  on  the  top  of  the  hill.  The 
attendants  rode  after  them,  but  their  horses  were  tired 
with  the  racing,  and  the  prince's  horse  was  fresh.  The 
last  they  saw  of  him  was  a  cloud  of  dust  far  down 
the  road.  Prince  Edward  had  gone  to  the  Earl  of 
Gloucester,  who  had  remained  faithful  to  the  king. 

At  Evesham  Edward's  forces  and  Simon  de  Mont- 
fort's  met.  The  earl  saw  that  the  chances  were 
against  him,  but  he  fought  like  the  true  knight  that 
he  was  until  his  horse  was  killed  under  him,  and  then 
he  fought  on  foot.  The  old  king,  seated  on  a  great 
war  horse,  rode  about,  getting  in  everybody's  way.  He 
was  nearly  killed  once,  but  he  managed  to  cry  out,"  I 
am  Henry  of  Winchester,"  and  Edward,  who  hap- 
pened to  hear  him,  took  his  horse  by  the  bridle  and  led 
him  away  out  of  danger.  The  Earl  of  Leicester  was 
still  righting  when  he  fell,  sword  in  hand.  The  leader 
was  gone,  but  the  cause  for  which  he  had  spent 
his  blood  lived  on,  for  Prince  Edward  stood  ready  to 
carry  on  the  good  work  which  Simon  de  Montfort 
had  begun. 


05 


EDWARD    I,    THE    HAMMER  OF   THE   SCOTS 

Edward  I  was  far  away  from  his  kingdom  when 
word  was  brought  him  that  his  father  was  dead  and 
he  was  king  of  England.  He  had  gone  to  the 
Holy  Land  on  a  crusade,  the  eighth  and  the  last  of 
the  crusades.  Like  Richard  the  Lion-hearted, 
Edward  was  a  valiant  knight.  When  crossing  the 
scorching  sands  of  Asia,  his  ranks  of  soldiers  grew 
thinner  and  thinner  as  the  men  died  from  fever  and 
fatigue.  His  generals  grew  discouraged,  and  wished 
to  go  home.  But  Edward  turned  his  face  to  the 
desert,  and  answered  :  "  I  will  go  on  if  I  go  with  no 
other  follower  than  my  groom."  Such  a  spirit 
aroused  great  fear  in  the  hearts  of  the  Turks,  and 
they  resolved  to  kill  this  prince. 

One  of  the  Saracen  nobles,  pretending  that  he 
wished  to  become  a  Christian,  sent  a  messenger  to 
Edward  bearing  a  letter.  As  Edward  was  reading 
the  letter,  the  dark-faced  slave  stole  nearer,  drew  a 
dagger  from  his  flowing  sleeve,  and  sprang  at 
Edward's  heart.  But  Edward  was  on  the  alert  in 
a  moment.  His  arm  was  strong  and  sure.  He 
smote  the  slave  to  the  ground,  and  killed  him  with 
the  dagger.  A  moment  later  he  noticed  that  his 
own  arm  had  been  scratched  by  the  dagger.  The 
wound  began  to  swell,  and  Edward  realized  that  the 


io6 

point  of  the  dagger  had  been  smeared  with  poison. 
The  physician  was  called  at  once,  and,  thanks  to  his 
skill  and  the  constant  nursing  of  Eleanor,  Edward's 
wife,  the  prince's  life  was  saved. 

Soon  after  his  recovery,  word  reached  him  of  his 
father's  illness,  and  Edward  turned  about  to  go 
home.  In  Italy  he  heard  that  his  father  had  died, 
and  he  had  been  proclaimed  king. 

Edward's  march  across  Europe  was  a  march  of 
triumph.  The  tales  of  his  bravery  in  the  Holy 
Land  went  before  him,  and  everywhere  he  was 
entertained  and  given  royal  presents  of  purple  robes 
and  prancing  horses.  When  he  landed  in  Dover, 
England,  and  went  on  to  Westminster,  the  greatest 
rejoicing  of  all  took  place.  "  For  the  coronation 
feast  there  were  provided,  among  other  eatables, 
four  hundred  oxen,  four  hundred  sheep,  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty  pigs,  eighteen  wild  boars,  three  hun- 
dred flitches  of  bacon,  and  twenty  thousand  fowls. 
The  fountains  ...  in  the  streets  flowed  with  red  and 
white  wine  instead  of  water ;  the  rich  citizens  hung 
silks  and  clothes  of  the  brightest  colors  out  of  their 
windows  to  increase  the  beauty  of  the  show,  and 
threw  out  gold  and  silver  by  whole  handfuls  to 
make  scrambles  for  the  crowd.  In  short,  there  was 
such  eating  and  drinking,  such  music  and  capering, 
such  a  ringing  of  bells  and  tossing  up  caps,  such  a 


xoy 

shouting  and  singing  and  reveling  as  the  narrow 
overhanging  streets  of  London  had  not  witnessed  in 
many  a  day." 

Kins:  Edward  I  was  a  bold  thinker.  At  the  be- 
ginning  of  his  reign  he  set  his  heart  on  being  king 
of  England,  Scotland,  and  Wales.  Wales  is  the 
mountainous  country,  lying  west  of  England,  where 
the  Britons  had  taken  refuge  at  the  time  of  the 
Saxon  Conquest.  In  Wales  the  people  still  spoke 
the  old  Briton  language,  and  sang  and  harped  the 
old  Briton  folk  songs.  There  wTas  a  tradition  in  the 
land  that  Merlin,  the  old  enchanter,  had  prophesied 
that  when  money  should  be  round,  a  Welsh  prince 
would  be  crowned  in  London.  Now  one  of 
Edward's  early  decrees  was  that  the  big  English 
pennies  should  not  be  cut  into  halves  and  quarters, 
as  had  been  done  formerly,  to  make  half  and  quarter 
pennies.  So  the  Welsh  believed  that  the  day  was 
near  when  Merlin's  prophecy  should  come  true. 

At  this  time  Llewellyn  was  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
It  was  his  duty  to  swear  allegiance  to  Edward. 
This  Llewellyn  refused  to  do.  Just  then  it  hap- 
pened that  Eleanor  de  Montfort,  the  young  lady  to 
whom  Llewellyn  was  betrothed,  was  returning  from 
France.  The  English  king  ordered  her  to  be  de- 
tained until  Llewellyn  swore  allegiance.  That  was 
how  the  quarrel  began.      It  ended,  as  most  quarrels 


io8 


did  in  those  days,  in  bitter  bloodshed.  Llewellyn 
was  killed,  and  his  people  subdued.  His  nobles 
came  before  Edward,  promising  to  be  faithful  to  him 

if  he  would  give 
them  as  governor 
a  prince  born  in 
their  own  land. 
Edward  promised, 
and  straightway 
brought  into  the 
room  his  little 
baby  son,  who  had 
been  born  there 
in  Wales  in  the 
Castle  of  Carnar- 
von a  short  time 
before.  Later 
Edward's  oldest 
son  died,  and  this, 
the  first  prince  of 
Wales,  became 
the  heir  apparent 
to  the  throne.  Ever  since  then  the  Crown  Prince 
of  England  has  borne  the  title  of  Prince  of  Wales. 

Now  that  the  Welshmen  had  submitted  to  him, 
Edward  turned  his  attention  to  the  North.  The 
king  of  Scotland,  who  had  married  Edward's  sister, 


The  First  Prince  of  Wales. 


io9 


was  dead.  He  had  no  children,  so  the  throne  fell 
to  a  little  eight-year-old  princess  of  Norway.  King 
Edward  proposed  that  the  little  Maid  of  Norway 
should  become  engaged  to  his  eldest  son,  but  as  she 
was  on  her  way  to  England  she  fell  ill  and  died. 
Immediately  thirteen  different  Scotsmen  came  for- 
ward claiming  the  Scottish  throne.  The  task  of 
deciding  which  one  of  these  should  be  king  of  Scot- 
land was  left  to  Edward.  The  English  king  de- 
cided upon  John  Baliol,  but  on  the  condition  that  he 
should  receive  his  crown  by  the  English  king's 
favor.  Then  Edward  caused  the  great  seal  of  Scot- 
land to  be  broken  in  four 
pieces,  and  carried  to  the 
English  treasury.  He  now 
considered  that  his  kingdom 
stretched  over  England, 
Scotland,  and  Wales. 

To  instill  it  into  Baliol's 
heart  that  he  was  England's 
vassal,  although  king  of 
Scotland,  Edward  repeat- 
edly summoned  him  to  ap- 
pear before  him  in  London. 
At  length  the  Scottish  people  took  this  to  be  an 
insult.  Baliol  refused  to  come.  With  thirty  thou- 
sand foot  soldiers  and  four  thousand  horse,  Edward 


Coronation  Chair. 


marched    into    Scotland.     The    English 


king    was 


victorious.     When  he  went  back  to  London  he  bore 
with  him  the  Scottish  throne  and  scepter,  and  the 

old  stone  corona- 
tion chair.  For 
ages  the  Scottish 
kings  had  been 
crowned  upon 
this  stone,  which 
was  now  placed 
in  Westminster 
Abbey  in  London. 
Perhaps  it  was 
this  very  act  that 
kept  alive  in  the 
Scots  the  burn- 
ing desire  to  be 
free  from  Eng- 
land's overrule. 
They    found   a 

Sir  William  Wallace.  ,  ,  ,     , 

noble  and  daring 
leader  in  Sir  William  Wallace,  and  the  whole  country 
was  soon  in  arms.  Edward  was  an  old  man,  but  he 
had  resolved  not  to  lose  Scotland.  He  went  to  war 
borne  on  a  litter.  Just  within  sight  of  Scotland  he 
died,  at  Burg-on-Sands.  But  even  in  dying  his 
spirit  was  unquenchable.     "  Tell  my  son,"  he  said, 


Ill 

"  to  bear  my  bones  ahead  of  the  army  into  Scot- 
land." 

His  dying  request  was  not  granted.  His  body 
was  carried  back  to  Westminster  Abbey  where 
these  words  are  engraved  upon  his  plain  gray 
marble  monument:  — 

"  This  is  Edward  the  First,  the  hammer  of  the 
Scots  —  keep  troth.  " 


3i*<C 


THE    BLACK    PRINCE 

For  a  hundred  years  England  was  at  war.  The 
war  with  Scotland  led  to  a  war  with  France,  and 
two  of  the  greatest  battles  in  history  were  fought 
before  England  and  France  signed  a  treaty  of 
peace. 

King  Edward  III  was  England's  monarch,  who 
crossed  the  Channel  and  met  the  French  at  Crecy. 
With  him  he  took  his  son,  Edward,  who  was  called 
the  Black  Prince  because  of  the  color  of  his  armor. 

The  morning  of  the  battle  the  king  and  the  prince 
heard  mass  with  the  army,  and  then  the  command 
was  given  for  all  to  arm  and  prepare  for  battle. 
Edward,  mounted  on  a  small  palfrey,  with  a  white 
wand  in  his  hand,  rode  down  the  long  ranks  of  his 
soldiers,  encouraging  the  fearful,  and  bidding  them 


112 


all  to  guard  his  honor  and  defend  his  right.  Thus 
they  waited  for  the  French,  with  fresh  courage  in 
every  English  heart. 

As   soon    as    the    French   forces 


king 
English 


The  Black  Prince  at  Crecy. 


A    terrible    rain    was    falling, 


came  up,  and 
the  French 
saw  the 
lined 
up  on  his 
ground,  his 
blood  began  to 
boil. 

"  Order  the 
Genoese  cross- 
bowmen  for- 
ward, and  be- 
gin the  battle 
in  the  name  of 
God  and  St. 
Denis!"  he 
cried  to  his 
marshals, 
and    the    sun  was 


eclipsed.  Thunder  and  lightning  broke  through 
the  storm.  Just  before  the  rain  a  flock  of  huge 
crows  hovered  over  the  battalions,  cawing  and 
shrieking.  To  the  Frenchmen,  weary  from  their 
long  march,  the  storm  seemed  a  prophecy  of  doom. 


H3 

But  the  king  had  given  the  command,  and  they 
must  advance.  The  storm  broke,  but  the  sun  came 
out  with  dazzling  brightness,  shining  in  the  French- 
men's eyes.  With  a  shout,  the  Genoese  went 
forward.  The  English  remained  motionless.  A 
second  shout  came  from  the  French,  yet  the  Eng- 
lish never  stirred.  With  the  third  shout,  they 
began  to  shoot.  Then  the  English  battalion  ad- 
vanced one  step,  drew  their  bows,  and  let  fly  their 
arrows.  So  thick  and  fast  they  fell  that  it  seemed 
to  the  Genoese  as  if  it  snowed.  They  turned  and 
retreated.  But  other  French  forces  came  up 
rapidly  behind  them,  and  the  battle  raged  fiercely. 
The  Black  Prince  was  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
fray,  and  his  men  were  falling  on  either  side  of  him. 
King  Edward  was  watching  the  battle  on  the  hill 
near  a  windmill.  Suddenly  he  saw  a  knight 
riding  toward  him  at  top  speed.  "  Sir,"  he  cried, 
saluting  the  king,  "  the  Earl  of  Warwick  and 
others  who  are  about  your  son  are  vigorously  attacked 
by  the  French,  and  they  entreat  that  you  should 
come  to  their  assistance  with  your  battalion,  for  if 
their  numbers  should  increase  they  fear  that  he 
will  have  too  much  to  do." 

The  king  did  not  move  from  his  post.  "  Is  my  son 
dead,  unhorsed,  or  so  badly  wounded  that  he  cannot 
support  himself  ?  "  he  asked. 

LIT.  STO.  OF  ENG.  —  8 


ii4 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,  thank  God,"  replied  the 
knight ;  "  but  he  is  in  so  hot  an  engagement  that  he 
has  great  need  of  your  help." 

Still  the  king  did  not  move.  "  Go  back  to  those 
who  sent  you,"  he  said  quietly,  "  and  tell  them  not 
to  return  again  for  me  this  day,  or  expect  that  I 
shall  come.  Let  what  will  happen  as  long  as  my 
son  has  his  life.  And  say  that  I  command  them  to 
let  the  boy  win  his  spurs  ;  for  I  am  determined,  if  it 
please  God,  that  all  the  glory  and  honor  of  this  day 
shall  be  given  to  him  and  to  those  to  whose  care  I 
have  entrusted  him." 

The  knight  rode  back  to  the  lords  with  the  king's 
answer,  which  gave  them  such  courage  that  they 
repented  of  having  sent  such  a  message. 

So  the  great  roar  and  tumult  of  the  battle  wTent  on 
all  day,  until  the  French  king  had  to  flee ;  and  night 
brought  victory  to  the  English.  Then  they  lighted 
their  torches  and  built  great  fires  that  blazed  up 
into  the  skies.  And  King  Edward  then  came  down 
from  his  post,  and  advanced  with  his  whole  battalion 
to  meet  the  Prince  of  Wales. 

"  Sweet  son,"  he  said  as  he  embraced  and  kissed 
the  Black  Prince,  "  God  give  you  good  persever- 
ance. You  are  my  son,  for  most  loyally  have  you 
acquitted  yourself  this  day.  You  are  worthy  to  be 
a  sovereign." 


H5 

The  prince  bowed  very  low,  and  humbled  himself, 
saying  that  all  the  honor  belonged  to  his  father. 
And  the  English  feasted  all  night,  and  gave  thanks 
to  God  for  their  great  victory. 

The  war  lingered  on  through  the  years.  Ten 
years  after  the  battle  of  Crecy,  the  Black  Prince 
won  another  great  victory  for  his  people.  At 
Poitiers  he  met  the  king  of  France  with  his  four 
sons,  and  all  the  flower  of  the  French  nobility. 
When  the  Prince  of  Wales  saw  the  enemy  drawn 
up  before  him,  he  addressed  his  own  men  with 
these  words :  "  Now,  my  gallant  fellows,  what 
though  we  be  a  small  body  when  compared  to 
the  army  of  our  enemies?  Do  not  let  us  be  cast 
down  on  that  account,  for  victory  does  not  always 
follow  numbers,  but  where  Almighty  God  pleases 
to  bestow  it.  If,  through  good  fortune,  the  day 
shall  be  ours,  we  will  gain  the  greatest  glory  in 
this  world ;  if  the  contrary  should  happen,  and  we 
be  slain,  I  have  a  father  and  beloved  brethren  alive 
who  will  be  sure  to  avenge  our  deaths.  I  therefore 
entreat  you  to  combat  manfully ;  for  if  it  shall  please 
God  and  St.  George,  this  day  you  shall  see  me  a 
good  knight." 

And  with  a  cry,  "  Banners  advance  in  the  name 
of  God  and  St.  George,"  the  English  went  forward 
into  battle. 


\6 


The  French  leader,  King  John,  was  no  less  brave 
of  heart  than  the  Prince  of  Wales,  but  the  English 

put  the  French  to 
confusion.  In  the 
midst  of  his  shat- 
tered ranks  the 
French  king  stood 
his  ground,  fight- 
ing valiantly  with 
his  battle  ax, 
and  beside  him 
stood  his  fair- 
haired  son  Philip, 
just  sixteen  years 
old.  But  finally 
an  English  knight 
rode  up,  and  de- 
manded King  John 

Surrender  of  King  John. 

to  surrender. 

"  I  will  surrender  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,"  said 
the  French  king,  for  he  saw  that  he  was  hard  pressed. 

"Surrender  to  me,"  replied  the  knight,  "and  I 
will  lead  you  to  the   Prince  of  Wales." 

So  King  John  and  his  son  Philip  were  taken 
prisoners,  and  the  battle  of   Poitiers  came  to  end. 

That  night  the  Prince  of  Wales  gave  a  great 
feast    to    King    John   and   all    the    royal   prisoners. 


The  table  was  spread  in  the  prince's  tent,  and  the 
prince  himself  served  at  the  table.  At  the  end 
he  pledged  a  toast  to  the  king  and  said :  — 

"  Dear  sir,  do  not  make  a  poor  meal  because 
the  Almighty  God  has  not  gratified  your  wishes 
in  the  event  of  this  day;  for  be  assured  that  my 
lord  and  father  will  show  every  honor  and  friend- 
ship in  his  power,  and  will  arrange  your  ransom 
so  reasonably  that  you  will  always  remain  friends. 


Tomb  of  the  Black  Prince. 


In  my  opinion,  you  have  cause  to  be  glad  that  the 
success  of  this  battle  did  not  turn  out  as  you  de- 
sired;   for  you  have   this  day  acquired    such    high 


IIcS 

renown  for  prowess  that  you  have  surpassed  all 
the  best  knights  on  your  side." 

At  these  words  murmurs  of  praise  went  up  on 
all  sides,  and  the  French  said  that  the  prince  had 
spoken  nobly  and  truly,  and  that  he  would  be  one 
of  the  most  gallant  princes  in  Christendom  if  God 
should  give  him  life  to  pursue  his  career  of  glory. 

But  although  the  Black  Prince  was  a  brilliant 
warrior,  he  was  a  heartless  man.  His  health  broke 
down  when  he  was  still  young,  and  the  pain  he 
had  to  bear  made  him  cruel  and  revengeful  instead 
of  gentle  and  courteous  as  became  a  knight.  Yet 
when  he  died  all  England  mourned  for  him. 


CHAUCER  AND  THE  CANTERBURY  PILGRIMS 

It  was  many  years  now  since  Caedmon  had 
dreamed  that  he  could  sing,  and  had  awakened  to 
turn  the  beautiful  old  sacred  stories  into  song. 
There  had  been  other  singers  after  him,  minstrels 
and  ballad  writers,  but  the  first  great  English  poet 
was  not  born  until  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  He 
would  seem  a  queer-looking  figure  indeed,  this  first 
English  poet,  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  if  we  should  meet 
him  on  the  streets  to-day  in  his  clerk's  dress. 
A    dark-colored   hood   was  pulled  lightly  over  his 


ii9 


head,  with  a  long  tail  to  it,  which  indoors  hung 
down  his  back,  and  out  of  doors  was  twisted  lightly 
around  his  head  to  keep  it  from  blowing  off.  His 
gray  tunic,  which  was  loose  with  big  baggy  sleeves, 


Chaucer. 

hung  to  his  knees.  His  stockings  were  bright 
scarlet,  and  his  boots  black.  He  was  rather  shy  in 
his  manner,  and,  as  he  tells  us  himself,  when  he 
went  along  the  London  streets,  he  kept  his  eyes  cast 
down  upon  the  ground,  "  as  if  he  would  find  a 
hair." 


120 


It  was  a  very  different  London  from  the  noisy 
crowded  city  that  we  know  to-day,  else  Chaucer 
could  not  have  passed  along  the  highways  with 
drooping  eyes.  He  called  it  a  "dear  and  sweet 
city,"  and  tells  us  how  he  loved  to  arise  early  and  go 
out  to  see  the  daisies  open  and  hear  the  morning 
songs  of  the  birds. 

For  many  years  Chaucer  worked  in  the  Custom 
House.  He  must  have  found  it  very  dull  work, 
bending  over  the  great  custom  books  all  day  long. 
But  when  night  came,  although  his  eyes  were 
almost  dazed  and  his  back  was  aching  as  if  it  would 
break,  still  he  turned  to  study  and  to  books,  and  was 
"dumb  as  a  stone"  to  all  about  him.  He  loved  to 
read  other  people's  stories  long  before  he  thought  of 
writing  them  himself. 

One  of  Chaucer's  best  friends  was  John  of  Gaunt, 
a  younger  brother  of  the  Black  Prince.  This  friend- 
ship lasted  throughout  life,  and  as  long  as  John  of 
Gaunt  was  in  power,  Chaucer  was  well  provided  for. 
He  was  a  prominent  figure  at  the  Court  of  Edward 
III,  and  in  later  years  was  sent  abroad  by  the  king 
on  many  important  embassies.  He  married,  too, 
one  of  the  court  ladies,  Philippa,  a  maid  of  honor  to 
the  queen.  During  these  years  Chaucer  had  plenty 
of  money,  and  lived  a  happy,  prosperous  life.  Later, 
when  the  king  died  and  John  of  Gaunt  fell  into  dis- 


121 

favor,  Chaucer,  too,  was  disgraced  because  he  still 
remained  true  to  his  friend.  He  lost  his  position  in 
the  Custom  House,  and  became  very  poor.  Still  his 
heart  did  not  grow  bitter,  although  he  was  treated 
very  unjustly.  It  was  during  these  hard  years  that 
he  wrote  his  most  famous  poems,  the  "  Canterbury 
Tales,"  which  are  full  of  pictures  of  a  beautiful  world, 
and  of  love  and  merriment. 

He  begins  these  poems  with  a  description  of  a 
lovely  spring  day,  when  April  showers  had  pierced 
the  heart  of  March  and  the  little  birds  were  making 
melody.  He  was  resting  at  the  Tabard  Inn,  ready 
to  go  on  the  next  day  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Canter- 
bury, the  shrine  of  Thomas  a  Becket.  At  night- 
fall, the  inn  grew  more  and  more  full  of  guests,  until 
there  was  great  company  in  the  hall,  and  the  stables 
were  full  of  horses.  And  Chaucer  tells  us  how 
shortly  after  sunset  he  made  friends  with  all  the 
people  and  learned  that  they  had  met  by  chance  and 
were  all  starting  on  the  morrow  on  a  pilgrimage  like 
his  own.  They  therefore  agreed  to  all  rise  early  and 
start  together.  Then  the  host  at  the  inn,  when  he 
had  given  his  guests  a  capital  supper  and  had 
received  the  just  reckoning  from  each  one,  stood  up 
and  commanded  silence.  "  Well,  my  masters,"  said 
he,  "  I  say  that  each  of  you  shall  tell  the  rest  four 
stories  —  two  on  the  way  to  Canterbury,  and  two  on 


122 


the  way  home.  For  you  know  that  it  is  small  fun 
riding  alone  dumb  as  a  stone.  And  whichever  in 
the  party  tells  the  best  story  shall  have  a  supper  at 
this  inn  at  the  cost  of  the  rest  when  you  come  back. 
To  assure  you  better,  I  will  myself  gladly  join  your 
party  —  and  be  at  once  guide  and  judge." 

So  it  was  agreed,  and  the  company  started  off  the 
next  morning  in  fine  spirits.  So  vividly  has 
Chaucer  portrayed  these  Canterbury  pilgrims  that 
we  could  scarcely  see  them  better  if  he  had  painted 
a  picture  of  each  one.  There  was  a  knight,  a  very 
perfect  noble  knight,  who  loved  all  chivalry,  honor, 
truth,  and  courtesy.  With  him  was  his  son,  as  squire, 
with  locks  all  curled  and  fresh  as  the  month  of  May. 
His  heart  was  light,  and  he  whistled  and  sang  all 
day  long  as  he  rode.      He  had  no  attendant  save  one 


123 


yeoman  clad  in  coat  and  hood  of  green.  There  was 
also  a  nun,  with  eyes  gray  as  glass  and  a  little  red 
mouth,  who  carried  in  her  arms  some  little  doers 
which  she  often  feci  with  foasted  meat,  milk,  and  the 
finest  bread.  Then  there  was  a  jolly  monk,  whose 
horse's  bridle  jingled  like  a  chapel  bell  as  he  rode 
along,  and  a  friar,  who  carried  with  him  a  number  of 
pretty  pins  and  knives  which  he  gave  away  as  pres- 
ents to  all  the  friends  he  made.  A  merchant  with 
a  forked  beard  was  in  the  company,  who  sat  high  on 
his  horse  and  wore  a  Flemish  beaver  hat,  and  also 
an  Oxford  student  in  threadbare  coat,  riding  a  horse 
as  lean  as  a  rake,  because  he  spent  all  his  money  on 
books  and  learning.  Then  there  was  a  franklin, 
with  beard  as  white  as  daisies  ;  a  haberdasher,  a 
carpenter,  a  weaver,  a  dyer,  a  cook,  a  sailor,  a  doctor, 


a  good  wife  from  Bath,  a  plowman,  and  a  pardoner 
whose  long  yellow  hair  hung  in  shreds  about  his 
shoulders,  and  many  others.  It  was  a  motley  but 
gay  company. 

At  daybreak  they  all  rode  out  together  from  the 
court  of  the  inn  into  the  glad  spring  day.  They 
halted  at  the  Watering  of  St.  Thomas,  and  there 
drew  lots  to  see  who  should  tell  the  first  tale.  The 
lot  fell  to  the  knight,  which  delighted  every  one; 
and  as  the  party  set  out  again,  he  began  his  tale. 

Chaucer  did  not  invent  new  stories  for  all  of  his 
Canterbury  pilgrims,  but  he  filled  the  old  tales  with 
so  much  life  that  they  are  as  fresh  and  full  of  wit 
and  humor,  love  and  pathos,  to  us  to-day,  as  they 
were  to  England  five  hundred  years  ago  when  the 
first  great  English  poet  first  wrote  them. 


*«ic 


MADCAP    HARRY 


The  desire  that  burned  in  the  heart  of  Edward 
III  was  kindled  afresh  in  Henry  V,  who  reigned 
about  forty  years  later.  He  wanted  his  kingdom 
to  stretch  across  the  sea  and  cover  France.  The 
wars  with  France  had  gone  on  so  long  now,  that 
every  English  boy  seemed  to  be  born  with  a  hatred 
for  the    French   boys  across  the    Channel.      It  was 


125 

only  necessary  for  an  English  prince  to  shout, 
"  Forward  in  the  name  of  St.  George  !  "  to  arouse 
the  war  spirit  in  their  blood.  The  Black  Prince 
had  worn  himself  out  in  war,  but  now  another 
prince  was  wearing  the  English  crown,  who  was 
destined  to  be  as  great  a  hero  in  English  eyes 
as  the  Black  Prince.  This  prince  was  Henry  of 
Monmouth,  whom  history  has  nicknamed  "  Mad- 
cap  Harry." 

There  was  no  great  artist  in  those  days  to  paint 
portraits  of  famous  men  and  women,  so  it  was  cus- 
tomary for  writers  of  history  to  give  long  descrip- 
tions of  the  personal  appearance  of  the  kings  and 
queens.  The  biographer  of  Henry  V  tells  us  that 
this  king  "had  an  oval,  handsome  face  with  a  broad, 
open  forehead  and  straight  nose,  ruddy  cheeks  and 
lips,  a  deeply  indented  chin  and  small  well  formed 
ears ;  his  hair  was  brown  and  thick ;  and  his  bright 
hazel  eyes,  gentle  as  a  dove's  when  at  rest,  could 
gleam  like  a  lion's  when  aroused  to  wrath.  He  re- 
joiced in  all  kinds  of  sports  and  exercise,  had  no 
equal  in  jumping,  and  was  so  swift  of  foot  that  with 
one  or  two  chosen  companions  he  would  start  the 
quickest  buck  from  the  woodlands  and  run  it  down 
in  the  open." 

And  to  this  picture  of  Henry  we  must  add  that  he 
was  hot-headed,  kind  of  heart,  bold  in  thought  and 


126 

deed,  loving  his  people  and  beloved  by  them.  As 
a  prince  he  had  been  wild  and  fearless,  and  in  this 
same  spirit  he  led  his  army  across  the  sea  to  win 
the  French  crown.  The  great  and  terrible  battle 
of  this  war  was  fought  in  the  autumn  of  141 5. 
The  two  armies  came  together  near  the  village  of 
Maisoncelle  at  night.  In  Henry's  ranks  his  dis- 
cipline was  so  strict  that  all  through  the  night  there 
was  scarcely  a  whisper  heard  in  the  camp.  The 
French  even  thought  that  the  English  had  retreated 
in  the  rain  and  darkness.  In  the  meantime  in  their 
camp  there  was  turmoil  and  confusion,  the  shouting 
of  orders,  the  din  of  tramping  men  and  horses,  and 
the  shouting  of  the  nobles  who  were  feasting  and 
drinking,  sure  of  to-mdrrow's  victory. 

At  daybreak  Henry  was  up  and  clad  in  his 
armor.  He  put  on  his  head  his  helmet,  blazing 
with  its  coronet  of  rubies,  sapphires,  and  pearls ; 
mounted  a  small  gray  horse,  and  gave  the  orders 
for  the  day.  The  army  was  drawn  up  four  lines 
deep,  with  the  archers  in  front.  Few  of  Henry's 
archers  wore  any  armor.  They  were  clad  instead 
in  their  heavy  doublets,  with  their  hose  tucked  up 
and  their  feet  bare  that  they  might  stand  the  more 
firmly.  When  all  was  in  readiness,  Henry  asked 
the  hour. 

"  It  is  the  first  watch,"  they  told  him. 


127 

"  Good,"  replied  the  king.  "  For  at  this  hour  all 
England  prayeth  for  us ;  let  us  therefore  be  of  good 
cheer." 

"  And,"  writes  Henry's  chaplain,  "  so  long  as  the 
battle  lasted,  I  who  write  these  words,  sat  upon  my 
horse  amid  the  baggage  in  the  rear,  and  with  all 
the  other  priests  humbled  my  soul  before  God,  say- 
ing in  my  heart :    Be  mindful   of-  us,  O    Lord  !   for 


Before  the   Battle  of  Agincourt, 


our  enemies  are  gathered  together  and  boast  them- 
selves in  their  strength.  Break  down  their  power, 
and  scatter  them,  that  they  may  know  there  is  none 
other  that  fighteth  for  us  but  Thou,  O  God." 


About  a  mile  away  stood  the  French,  three  times 
as  strong.  But  Henry's  courage  never  faltered.  He 
rode  down  the  lines,  bidding  his  men  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  they  would  have  a  fair  day  and  a  gracious  victory. 
And  the  men  caught  his  spirit,  and  answered,  "  Sire  ! 
we  pray  God  grant  you  a  good  life  and  victory  over 
our  enemies !  " 

The  order  to  advance  was  given,  and  with  a  ringing 
cheer  the  English  went  forward.  When  they  were 
within  bowshot  of  the  French,  Henry  commanded 
them  to  halt.  The  archers  planted  their  stakes  be- 
fore them  in  the  ground,  and  with  a  cry,  "  Hurrah  ! 
Hurrah  !  St.  George  and  Merry  England  !  "  the  battle 
began.  In  less  than  three  hours  the  English  had 
won  the  day.  Then  Henry  called  to  him  a  French 
herald,  and  asked,  "  Tell  me  the  name  of  yonder 
fortress  which  overlooks  the  field." 

"  Agincourt,"  the  herald  replied. 

"  Then,"  said  Henry,  "  this  battle  shall  now  and 
forever  be  called  the  Battle  of  Agincourt." 

News  was  sent  that  very  night  to  England,  and 
early  the  next  morning  the  church  bells  throughout 
the  country  proclaimed  the  great  victory.  But  there 
were  many  sad  hearts  in  England,  and  many  more  in 
France,  because  of  the  brave  soldiers  who  lay  among 
the  heaps  of  dead  the  day  after  that  terrible  battle. 

A  month  later  Henry  set  sail  for  home.     As  the 


129 


fleet  came  into  Dover,  the  excited  townspeople  rushed 
down  even  into  the  sea  to  carry  their  king  to  the 
shore  upon  their 
shoulders.  Never 
was  there  a  greater 
triumphant  march 
through  England 
than  Henry's 
march  from  Dover 
to  Westminster. 
At  Cornhill  tower 
there  was  stretched 
a  great  canopy 
adorned  with  the 
banners  of  St. 
George,  and  under- 
neath stood  a  num- 
ber of  men  dressed 
as  prophets  in  gold 
and  purple  robes. 
As  the  king  came  by,  the  prophets  let  loose  a  flock 
of  little  tame  birds,  which  fluttered  about  the  king 
and  even  perched  on  his  shoulders. 

At  Chepe  Cross  great  arches  spanned  the  streets, 
and  through  these  archways  came  maidens  dancing 
and  striking  timbrels,  just  as  the  women  in  the  olden 
days  had  welcomed  King  David  back  to  Jerusalem. 

LIT.  STO.  OF  ENG.  —  o 


Henry  and  the  French  Herald. 


130 

On  either  side  stood  white-robed  boys  to  represent 
angels,  who  scattered  wreaths  of  laurel  as  the  king 
rode  by. 

Dressed  in  his  purple  gown  and  surrounded  by 
only  a  few  personal  friends,  King  Henry  rode  with  a 
sober  face  through  the  festive  town.  He  would  not  let 
any  songs  be  sung  in  his  praise,  nor  would  he  allow  his 
11  bruised  helmet  and  his  bended  sword  "  to  be  borne 
•before  him  as  the  nobles  wished. 

"  The  glory  and  honor  is  due  alone  to  God/'  he  said, 
as  he  dismounted  and  went  into  St.  Paul's,  where 
a  Te  Deum  was  sung  for  his  victory. 

Still  the  troubles  with  France  continued  for  five 
years,  until  a  treaty  of  peace  was  signed,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  Henry  should  marry  the  French  king's 
daughter,  Catherine,  and  when  the  French  king  died, 
he  should  be  king  of  France. 

There  was  great  rejoicing  when  Henry  brought  his 
French  queen  home,  for  it  looked  now  as  if  Henry's 
ambition  would  be  accomplished.  But  two  years 
later  he  died,  when  he  was  only  thirty-four.  He  was 
buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  and  for  over  a  hun- 
dred years  tapers  were  kept  burning  about  his 
tomb. 


i3i 


WAT  TYLER  AND  THE  PEASANT  REVOLT 

The  long,  long  wars  with  France  were  draining 
England  of  many  of  her  best  men.  Suddenly  an- 
other enemy  came  upon  the  land.  It  was  an  enemy 
even  more  terrible  than  war.  It  swept  across  the 
land  through  city  and  village  alike.  Everywhere, 
where  people  were  living  in  dark  houses,  in  dirty 
streets,  in  unhealthy  homes,  this  new  enemy  entered. 

The  Black  Death  was  the  name  given  to  this 
plague.  The  first  time  it  visited  England  over  half 
the  people  died  of  it.  In  some  villages  scarcely 
enough  men  were  left  living  to  bury  the  dead.  On 
many  farms  there  were  not  left  enough  men  to 
reap  the  autumn  harvest.  The  few  remaining 
laborers,  or  villains,  as  they  were  called,  saw  that  this 
was  a  good  time  to  demand  higher  wages.  This 
angered  some  of  the  nobles  so  greatly  that  they  let 
their  crops  rot  in  the  ground  rather  than  pay  the 
wages  that  the  men  asked.  Finally  they  appealed 
to  Parliament  to  help  them. 

The  result  was  that  Parliament  passed  laws  re- 
quiring the  laborers  to  work  at  the  old  rate  of  wages 
and  forbidding  them  to  leave  the  land  upon  which 
they  were  born.  Any  villain  who  was  found  running 
away  was  to  be  branded  with  a  red-hot  iron  on  his 
forehead.     A  little  later  a   poll   tax  was   levied  on 


132 

every  person  in  the  land  over  fifteen  years  of  age. 
This  tax  was  to  help  pay  for  the  war  with  France. 
It  was  only  fourteen  pence,  but  the  villains'  wages 
were  so  low  that  it  often  took  them  many  days  to 
save  money  enough  to  pay  it. 

The  faces  of  the  laborers  grew  dark  and  sullen. 
As  they  walked  home  together  across  the  fields  at 
night,  they  talked  in  low  tones  of  the  unjust  nobles 
and  the  unjust  king.  They  saw  the  rich  landlords 
in  their  castles  dressed  in  beautiful,  soft  silks  and 
satins.  They  themselves  wore  coarse  woolen  tunics 
belted  in  at  the  waist  with  rope.  They  came  into 
their  homes,  which  were  low,  dirty,  and  filled  with  bad 
air.  Silently  they  ate  their  evening  meal  of  bacon, 
cabbage,  and  home-brewed  beer.  There  was  no  light 
in  the  room  save  from  the  burning  rushes  on  the 
hearth.  Here  the  family  gathered.  They  had  no 
books  to  read.  They  could  only  sit  there,  thinking 
of  their  aching  backs,  of  the  taxes  to  be  paid,  and 
their  few  scant  pennies  saved  up  for  the  winter's 
food.  Finally,  tired  out,  they  threw  themselves  on 
their  straw  pallets  to  sleep  heavily  until  daybreak. 

One  day  Wat  Tyler,  one  of  these  laborers,  was 
mending  a  roof,  when  he  heard  the  loud  outcry  of 
his  daughter  at  home  near  by.  Running  down  the 
ladder,  he  found  that  the  tax  collector  was  at  his 
house,  and  had  insulted  the  girl.     Scarcely  realizing 


133 

how  strong  his  arm  was,  Wat  struck  the  collector  a 
blow  that  killed  him  on  the  spot.  A  crowd  soon 
gathered  about  the  house,  and  these  laborers  were 
only  too  ready  to  take  Wat  Tyler's  part.  Still  hot 
with  anger,  the  roof-mender  begged  them  to  go  to 
London  with  him  and  demand  relief  for  the  many 
wrongs  they  were  suffering. 

Headed  by  Tyler,  the  little  band  started  afoot  for 
London.  Long  before  it  reached  there  it  had  grown 
to  be  one  hundred  thousand  strong.  With  them,  too, 
marched  John  Ball,  a  poor  priest  who  knew  how  to 
put  into  glowing  words  the  feelings  that  were  burn- 
ing in  the  laborers'  hearts.  As  they  were  nearing 
London  he  gathered  the  crowd  about  him  in  a  church- 
yard. "  Good  people,"  he  cried,  "  why  do  the  great 
folk  hold  us  in  slavery  if  we  are  all  children  of  the 
same  father  and  mother,  Adam  and  Eve  ?  They 
dress  in  velvets,  but  we  must  go  in  rags.  They  have 
wine  and  spices  and  fair  white  bread  upon  their  tables, 
while  we  have  oatcake,  and  straw  beds,  and  water  to 
drink.  They  have  leisure  and  fine  houses  ;  we  have 
pain  and  labor,  the  rain  and  the  wind  in  the  fields. 
When  Adam  delved  and  Eve  span,  who  was  then 
the  gentleman  ?  " 

With  renewed  courage  the  army  of  villains  pressed 
on  to  London,  and  for  three  weeks  held  possession 
of  the    city.     They    ransacked    the    homes    of    the 


134 

wealthy,  and  destroyed  all  the  silver  and  gold  that 
they  could  find.  Finally  the  king  agreed  to  meet 
them.  King  Richard  was  only  sixteen,  and  his  heart 
was  fearless. 

"  What  will  you,  good  people  ?  "  he  asked  bravely 


Death  of  Wat  Tyler. 

in  the  face  of  the  mob.  "  I  am  your  king  and  lord. 
What  will  you  ?  " 

"  We  will  that  you  free  us  forever,"  the  mob 
shouted  like  one  man;  "  and  that  we  be  never  more 
named  or  held  as  serfs." 

"  I  grant  it,"  the  king  replied. 

The    crowd    broke    up,   and    many    went    home. 


135 

Thirty  thousand  remained  to  see  that  the  king  kept 
his  word.  The  next  morning,  when  the  king  was 
talking  with  Tyler,  some  hot  words  passed  between 
them.  Tyler  raised  his  arm,  and  the  Mayor  of  Lon- 
don, fearing  that  he  was  about  to  strike  the  king, 
drew  his  sword  and  slew  the  laborer.  It  was  a  mo- 
ment of  great  peril,  but  the  king  did  not  lose  his 
head.  Wheeling  his  horse  about,  he  shouted  to  the 
mob,  "  Follow  me,  I  am  your  captain  and  your  king." 
The  people  trusted  him,  and  soon  after  this  re- 
turned to  their  homes.  But  King  Richard's  promises 
were  not  kept.  There  was  no  law  in  England  that 
gave  him  power  to  make  such  promises.  Parliament 
continued  her  unjust  taxes.  But  the  barons  had  seen 
once  for  all  the  strength  of  the  villains  when  once 
aroused.  They  were  too  afraid  of  another  revolt  to 
press  their  tenants  more  than  necessary.  Then,  too, 
there  were  other  forces  at  work  in  the  land  that 
were  to  lessen  the  power  that  the  barons  had  held 
ever  since  the  days  of  William  the  Conqueror. 


**s< 


THE    LAST   OF   THE    BARONS 

There  is  an  old  legend  of  a  French  king  whose 
life  was  made  miserable  because  of  his  quarrelsome 
nobles.      These  lords  and  barons  were  always  fight- 


136 

ing  one  another  and  then  coming  to  the  king  for 
him  to  settle  the  dispute.  Finally  in  despair  the 
king  shut  all  the  nobles  of  the  land  up  in  one  room, 
and  locked  the  doors.  An  hour  later,  when  he 
opened  the  room,  he  found  that  all  the  nobles  were 
either  dead  or  so  weak  with  wounds  that  they  were 
glad  to  go  meekly  home  and  hang  their  weapons  on 
their  castle  walls. 

Much  the  same  thing  happened  in  England  when 
the  barons  came  home  after  the  long  wars  with 
France.  These  barons  came  back  from  France 
with  hearts  grown  hard,  cruel,  and  merciless.  Many 
of  them  came  home  rich  with  plunder.  It  is  said 
that  the  Earl  of  Warwick  was  so  rich  that  he  fed 
thirty  thousand  daily  at  his  castles.  Six  huge  oxen 
were  killed  every  day  for  the  breakfast  of  his  re- 
tainers. He  boasted  that  no  man  ever  went  hungry 
from  his  door,  and  that  soldiers  could  enter  his 
kitchen  at  any  hour  and  carry  off  as  large  pieces  of 
meat  as  they  could  pick  up  on  their  daggers. 

The  barons  had  not  been  home  two  years  before 
they  began  to  fight  one  another.  The  story  reads 
that  two  of  them,  Warwick  and  Somerset,  were 
walking  together  in  the  temple  gardens,  each  one 
attended  by  a  large  court  of  followers.  A  dispute 
arose  as  to  whether  a  prince  of  the  House  of  Lan- 
caster, or  a  prince  of  the  House  of  York,  should  be 


137 

the  next  king  of  England.  Each  house  was  of 
royal  blood,  and  could  lay  claims  to  the  throne. 
The  words  between  Somerset  and  Warwick  became 
hotter  and  hotter.  Finally  Warwick  turned  about, 
plucked   a  white    rose   from   a   bush    near  by,  and, 


In  the  Temple  Gardens. 

sticking  it  into  his  buttonhole,  bade  all  true  and  loyal 
followers  of  the  House  of  York  do  likewise.  There- 
upon Somerset  seized  a  rose  of  flaming  red,  and 
shouted  that  this  should  be  the  emblem  of  the  House 
of  Lancaster.  It  would  have  been  well  if  King 
Henry  had  been  strong  enough  to  imprison  all 
these  angry  nobles  in  one  great  room  and  let  them 
fight  one  another,  as  the  legends  said  the  old  French 


138 

king  did.  Then  the  farmers  who  wished  to  plow 
and  sow  their  land,  and  the  traders  in  the  city  who 
wished  to  work  at  their  honest  business,  could  have 
gone  peacefully  about  their  work.  For  these  good 
people  had  no  interest  in  this  "  War  of  the  Roses  " 
which  for  thirty  years  the  barons  waged  in  England. 
But  King  Henry  VI  was  not  a  strong  man,  and  he 
was  not  a  fighter.  He  had  been  made  king  when 
only  a  boy  of  seven,  and  while  he  was  still  a  child, 
had  often  been  called  to  settle  the  quarrels  between 
his  barons.  The  strain  proved  too  great  for  him. 
Shortly  before  the  War  of  the  Roses  broke  out,  he 
became  insane.  There  was,  therefore,  no  strong- 
hand  to  hold  the  barons  in  check.  All  England 
lay  at  their  mercy. 

The  story  of  this  war  is  very  long  and  very  unin- 
teresting. One  year  the  White  Rose  was  victorious ; 
the  next  year  found  the  Red  Rose  in  power.  It  is  a 
story  of  many  cruel  deeds,  that  we  are  glad  to  forget 
as  soop  as  we  can.  Many  a  baron  lost  his  life. 
Somerset  was  slain  in  battle  at  the  beginning  of  the 
war;  and  Warwick  in  the  battle  of  Barnet,  near 
the  close.  He  had  been  called  the  "  Last  of  the 
Barons,"  because  he  was  the  last  baron  who  was 
strong  enough  to  dictate  to  the  king. 

The  War  of  the  Roses  came  to  an  end  on  the 
battlefield   of    Bosworth.     The   two  leaders  in  this 


139 


battle  were  Henry  Tudor,  the  head  of  the  Lancas- 
trians, and  Richard  III,  the  last  of  the  three  York 
kings.  The  night  before 
the  battle  Richard  III  was 
tormented  by  bad  dreams. 
He  believed  this  to  be  an 
evil  omen.  The  next  morn- 
ing his  commander-in-chief 
deserted  him.  Neverthe- 
less, Richard,  with  no  sign 
of  fear,  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  bravely  into  battle. 
He  died  fighting.  His 
crown,  which  he  had  worn 
into  battle,  was  found  by 
the  Lancastrian  soldiers  under  a  holly  bush.  They 
brought  it  to  their  leader,  and  there  on  the  field 
crowned  him  Henry  VII  of  England.  Thus  the  war 
closed  with  a  triumph  for  the  House  of  Lancaster. 
Soon  afterwards  Henry  married  a  princess  of  the 
House  of  York,  and  thus  the  two  parties  were  at  last 
peacefully  united. 


140 

WILLIAM    CAXTON 

England's  first  printer 

It  is  hard  to  believe  that  the  fifteenth  century 
dawned  before  the  first  book  was  printed  in  England. 
The  bards  had  told  over  and  over  the  old  lays  of  Beo- 
wulf; Caedmon  had  sung  his  verses  of  the  Creation; 
Chaucer  had  written  his  merry  "  Canterbury  Tales," 
but  no  book  had  yet  been  printed  in  England.  In  the 
great  palaces  and  homes  of  the  wealthy  there  were 
books,  and  very  beautiful  ones,  but  they  had  all  been 
written  by  hand, —  the  painstaking  task  of  some 
monk  who  had  spent  years  over  his  work.  They 
were  written  on  heavy  parchment,  and  many  of  them 
had  pages  decorated  with  colored  borders  of  birds 
and  flowers.  But  these  books  were  so  costly  that 
few  besides  kings  and  princes  could  have  libraries 
in  those  days.  Probably  no  little  child  in  England 
at  that  time  owned  a  book. 

The  man  who  printed  the  first  book  in  England 
was  William  Caxton.  He  was  born  in  the  woody 
county  of  Kent  early  in  the  fifteenth  century.  In 
one  of  his  books  he  wrote,  "  I  was  born  and  learned 
my  English  in  Kent,  where  I  doubt  not  is  spoken  as 
broad  and  rude  English  as  is  in  any  place  in  Eng- 
land." In  these  days  the  English  language  was  made 
up  of  many  different  dialects.      The  people  in  the 


141 

South  spoke  so  differently  from  the  people  in  the 
North  that  they  could  scarcely  understand  each  other. 
Later,  when  printed  books  could  be  bought  by  rich 
and  poor,  the  people  in  the  North  and  the  South,  the 
East  and  the  West,  began  gradually  to  understand  and 
speak  the  same  tongue.  Then  the  English  language 
came  to  be  the  language  that  we  speak  to-day. 

In  Kent,  Caxton's  early  home,  as  he  writes,  the 
people  spoke  a  rude  tongue.  There  were  many  Flem- 
ish settlers  there,  and  their  language  became  mixed 
with  the  Kentish  English.  Caxton  himself  tells 
about  a  party  of  merchants  who  were  delayed  on  the 
Kentish  coast,  and  came  to  a  little  cottage  to  buy 
some  eggs.  The  good  wife,  who  opened  the  door, 
shook  her  head,  and  replied  that  she  knew  no  French. 
Then  the  merchant  was  angry,  for  he  spoke  no  French 
either  but  was  astanch-hearted  Englishman.  "  Eggs," 
"  Eggs,"  he  kept  repeating,  but  she  could  not  under- 
stand. Then  at  length,  one  of  his  company  said 
"  Eyren,"  which  is  the  word  for  "  eggs  "  in  the  old 
Kentish  dialect,  and  the  good  wife  hastened  to  fetch 
him  a  basket  full. 

When  Caxton  was  quite  a  young  man  he  was  sent 
on  business  to  Bruges,  where  he  lived  for  thirty-five 
years.  This  now  sleepy  old  town  was  then  a  flour- 
ishing city.  There  were  many  young  men  there 
who  were  interested  in  the  making  of  books,  and  we 


142 

soon  find  Caxton  at  work  evenings  translating  a 
French  book.  In  his  prologue  to  this  book,  Caxton 
writes  in  his  quaint  English,  "  When  I  remember 
that  every  man  is  bound  by  the  commandment  and 
counsel  of  the  wise  men  to  avoid  sloth  and  idle- 
ness, .  .  .  then  I,  having  no  great  charge  of  occupa- 
tion, followed  the  said  counsel,  took  a  French  book 
and  read  therein  many  strange  and  marvellous  stories 
wherein  I  had  great  pleasure  and  delight.  .  .  .  And 
for  so  much  this  book  was  new  and  lately  made  and 
drawn  into  French,  and  never  had  been  seen  in  our 
English  tongue,  I  thought  in  myself  it  would  be  a  good 
business  to  translate  it  into  our  English  to  the  end  that 
it  might  be  had  as  well  in  England  as  in  other  lands, 
and  also  for  to  pass  away  my  time,  and  thus  concluded 
in  myself  to  begin  this  work." 

Caxton,  however,  grew  weary  of  his  task  before  he 
had  half  finished  the  translation.  He  had  sfiven  it 
up,  when  the  Duchess  of  Burgundy  saw  his  work  and 
commanded  him  to  finish  it.  When  it  was  once 
completed,  other  nobles  saw  it,  and  wanted  Caxton 
to  make  copies  for  them.  Caxton  found  himself  over- 
burdened with  the  tedious  task  of  copying  his  trans- 
lation by  hand.  He  began  to  look  into  this  new  art  of 
printing  which  had  been  invented  in  Germany.  But 
he  tells  us  the  story  in  his  own  words  in  a  prologue 
to  the  first  printed  copy  of  the  "  History  of  Troy." 


143 

"And  for  as  much  as  in  the  writing  of  the  same 
my  pen  is  worn,  my  hands  weary  and  not  steadfast, 
my  eyes  dim  with  over  much  looking  on  the  white 
paper,  and  my  courage  not  so  prone  and  ready  to 


Caxton  and  the  First  Printing  Press  in   England. 

labor  as  it  hath  been,  and  that  age  creepeth  on  me 
daily  and  feebleth  all  the  body,  and  also  because  I 
have  promised  to  diverse  gentlemen  and  to  my  friends 
to  address   them  as    hastily    as    I    might    this  said 


144 

book,  therefore  I  have  practiced  and  learned  at  my 
great  expense  to  ordain  this  said  book  in  print  after 
the  manner  and  form  as  ye  may  here  see  and  is  not 
written  with  pen  and  ink  as  other  books  be." 

This  was  the  first  book  ever  printed  in  the  Eng- 
lish language.  The  next  year  Caxton  translated  and 
printed  another  book,  "  The  Game  and  Play  of  Chess." 
Then  he  returned  to  England,  bringing  his  printing 
press  with  him  and  settling  in  Westminster,  London. 
Just  where  he  lived  and  how  long  we  do  not  know ; 
but  his  life  must  have  been  a  busy  one,  for  we  know 
of  twenty-one  translations  that  he  made,  and  about 
seventy  books  that  he  printed. 

In  order  that  it  might  be  known  what  books  were 
printed  by  him,  Caxton  made  a  device  or  trade  mark 
which  he  stamped  in  all  his  books.  It  is  hard  to 
make  out  just  what  Caxton  meant  by  his  device. 
We  can  easily  see  the  "W"  and  the"C"  which 
stand  for  his  name,  and  it  is  supposed  that  the  two 
figures  between  these  letters  are  a  fantastic  "74." 
That  is,  his  device  meant,  "William  Caxton  printed 
the  first  English  book  in  1474." 

Many  fragments  of  Caxton's  books  can  be  seen 
to-day  in  the  British  Museum  and  elsewhere,  wrhere 
they  are  guarded  as  the  greatest  treasures.  And  in 
1877,  the  four  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  printing 
of  the  first  English  book  in  England,  a  great  festival 


H5 

was  held  in  St.   Paul's  Cathedral  to  honor  William 
Caxton,  England's  first  printer. 

BLUFF   KING    HAL 

Henry  VII,  who  was  crowned  on  the  battlefield 
of  Bos  worth,  was  the  first  of  the  Tudors,  who  now 
for  over  one  hundred  years  sat  on  the  throne  of 
England.  The  most  famous  of  the  Tudor  kings 
was  Henry  VIII;  the  most  famous  of  the  queens 
was  Elizabeth.  Henry  VIII  was  crowned  when 
he  was  eighteen  years  of  age. 

His  father,  Henry  VII,  had  left  the  royal  treasury 
full,  and  Henry's  greatest  delight  was  in  spending 
this  money  to  surround  himself  with  every  pomp 
and  glory  of  which  he  could  dream.  It  was  said 
that  he  was  very  handsome,  but  he  must  have  had  a 
hard  and  cruel  look  in  his  eyes,  for  no  man  ever 
thought  more  of  his  own  pleasure  and  less  of  that 
of  others  than  did  Henry  VIII.  At  first  his  people 
did  not  realize  this.  They  were  proud  because  he 
could  ride  a  horse  well,  proud  that  he  could  speak 
good  French,  Latin,  and  Spanish,  and  proud  of  his 
red  beard,  which  they  said  shone  like  gold,  and  was 
far  handsomer  than  the  beard  of  the  king  of  France. 

The  English  people  would  have  discovered  much 


LIT.    STO.    OF    ENG. 


146 


Henry  VIII  and  Wolsey. 


sooner  than  they  did  how  little  real  interest  Henry 
VIII  had  in  their  welfare  if  it  had  not  been  for 
Cardinal  Wolsey.     Wolsey  was  the  son  of  a  well- 


147 

to-do  Ipswich  butcher,  but  as  he  was  very  clever,  he 
worked  his  way  up  from  being  tutor  in  a  noble 
family  to  the  position  of  Archbishop  of  York. 
Later  the  Pope  made  him  cardinal,  and  Henry  VIII 
appointed  him  chancellor  of  the  realm.  He  was  a 
gay  companion  for  the  king,  fond  of  the  show  and 
glitter  that  Henry  VIII  loved.  He  was  a  great 
statesman  as  well,  and  Henry,  knowing  this,  gave 
him  almost  unlimited  power  in  ruling  England. 
These  were  days  when  Europe  was  the  seat  of  con- 
tinual warfare,  and  Spain,  France,  and  Germany 
were  all  seeking  England's  aid.  The  king  easily 
saw  that  no  other  man  was  so  diplomatic  in  arrang- 
ing foreign  affairs  as  Wolsey.  So  he  heaped  favor 
upon  favor  upon  him,  until  finally  Wolsey  was  liv- 
ing in  greater  state  than  the  king  himself.  His 
palaces  were  as  splendid  as  Henry's.  He  had  a 
retinue  of  eight  hundred.  He  held  his  court 
dressed  from  head  to  foot  in  flaming  scarlet,  with 
golden  shoes  set  with  precious  gems.  When  he 
went  out  in  state  his  followers  rode  on  thorough- 
bred horses,  but  the  cardinal,  pretending  to  be  very 
humble,  ambled  along  in  the  midst  of  them  on  a 
mule  with  red  velvet  saddle  and  bridle  and  stirrups 
of  gold. 

The  early  part  of  Henry  the  Eighth's  reign  was 
full  of  trouble  with  France.     Finally,  to  bring  about 


148 

peace,  the  stately  cardinal  arranged  that  the  two 
sovereigns,  Henry  VIII  and  Francis  I,  should  have 
a  personal  meeting  in  France  on  English  ground. 
The  place  selected  for  the  meeting  was  Guisney,  a 


fo  : 

. 

^0~A 

ifliwj 

*^f^&V:':k 

'                                                                '.:.'.:f''i":"";'      '                     •        / 

Iwl 

^f; 

5r  ^  M'^^u^^ 

t 

\WBm- 

Jf  4r, 

\      -  -; 

1  ■ 

▼ 

«iiii-; 

1 

The  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold. 


barren  plain  which  had  been  changed  into  a  fairy- 
land of  beauty  in  honor  of  the  great  event  which 
was  to  take  place  there.  Three  hundred  white 
tents  were  stretched  across  the  vast  field,  and  in 
their  midst  arose  a  gorgeous,  gilded  palace.  Its 
walls  were  hung  with  soft-colored  tapestries,  its 
ceilings  were  embossed  with  roses,  and  in  the  court- 
yards   great  fountains  spouted  red    with    sparkling 


i49 

wine.  So  lavishly  was  money  spent  that  the  spot 
has  become  known  in  history  as  The  Field  of  the 
Cloth  of  Gold.  Here  Francis  I  and  Henry  VIII 
came  with  their  vast  retinues.  The  whole  affair 
was  planned  with  great  state.  At  exactly  the  same 
time  Henry  and  Francis  issued  forth  from  their 
camps  on  opposite  hillslopes.  In  front  of  the  Eng- 
lish retinue  rode  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  bearing 
aloft  the  sword  of  state  before  the  king.  Then  fol- 
lowed Henry,  robed  in  silver  damask  thickly  ribbed 
with  gold.  He  was  mounted  on  a  splendid  charger, 
whose  trappings,  no  less  brilliant,  shone  and  glis- 
tened in  the  sun.  Behind  followed  the  cardinal, 
the  dukes  and  lords  and  nobles,  gorgeously  arrayed. 
As  a  shot  proclaimed  that  Henry  VIII  was  about 
to  advance,  a  responding  shot  heralded  the  ap- 
proach of  Francis  from  the  opposite  hill. 

The  French  king  wore  a  mantle  of  cloth  of  gold 
covered  with  jewels.  Diamonds,  red-hearted  rubies, 
rich  green  emeralds,  and  pearls  studded  the  front 
and  sleeves.  On  his  head  was  a  velvet  bonnet 
adorned  with  floating  plumes  and  precious  stones. 
Far  in  advance  of  him  rode  the  provost  marshal 
with  his  archers.  Then  came  the  marshals  and  the 
princes  of  the  blood,  followed  by  the  Swiss  guard 
on  foot  in  new  liveries,  with  their  drums,  flutes, 
trumpets,  and   clarions.     Directly  in    front    of    the 


i5o 

king  was  the  grand  constable,  carrying  a  naked 
sword,  and  the  grand  ecuyer  with  the  sword  of 
France. 

The  two  companies  advanced  slowly  and  in  state 
toward  the  valley.  Suddenly  there  was  a  moment's 
pause  on  each  side.  A  stir  ran  through  both  ranks. 
Then  from  out  the  maze  of  floating  plumes  and 
dazzling  colors,  while  the  trumpets  blared  and  the 
drums  beat,  rode  forth  from  the  English  and  from 
the  French  company  each  a  single  horseman.  They 
rode  slowly  down  from  the  opposing  hills,  but  the 
moment  they  reached  the  valley  they  put  spurs  to 
their  chargers.  The  horses  set  out  on  a  gallop 
across  the  field.  They  met  beneath  a  richly  hung 
pavilion,  where  the  two  horsemen  embraced  and 
dismounted.  It  was  the  King  of  England  and 
the   King  of  France. 

For  three  days  the  two  monarchs  lingered  on  the 
Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  holding  tournaments 
and  feasts  and  pledging  everlasting  friendship. 
But  no  sooner  had  Henry  VI H  returned  home 
than  he  was  making  the  same  promises  with  the 
Emperor  of  Germany,  Francis's  bitterest  enemy ; 
and  both  sovereigns  soon  learned  how  little  they 
could  trust  him. 

There  was  another  man,  too,  who  was  going  to 
suffer  from  the  faithlessness  of  the  king.     This  was 


i5i 

the  great  cardinal.  The  king  was  growing  tired 
of  his  wife,  Catherine,  who  was  quiet  and  serious. 
He  had  fallen  in  love  with  a  gay  and  pretty  court 
lady,  Anne  Boleyn,  and  he  wished  to  make  her  his 
queen.  To  do  this  it  was  necessary  to  divorce 
Catherine.  The  king  held  council  with  Wolsey, 
and  the  cardinal  advised  him  to  appeal  to  the 
Pope.  The  Pope  refused  his  request.  Henry 
VIII  spent  his  anger  now  in  disgracing  Wolsey. 
He  forgot  in  a  single  moment  of  temper  the  years 
of  work  that  Wolsey  had  given  for  the  upbuilding 
of  England's  power.  He  took  from  him  the  great 
seal,  and  banished  him  to  his  home  at  Esher.  The 
great  statesman  was  heartbroken.  On  his  way  to 
Esher  the  king  sent  him  a  present  of  a  ring,  and 
for  an  instant  he  hoped  to  win  back  the  royal  favor. 
He  looked  about  him  for  a  gift  suitable  to  return  to 
the  king.  At  first  he  saw  nothing  ;  then  his  eye  fell 
upon  a  jester  among  his  servants  whose  merry  wit, 
Wolsey  said,  was  worth  a  thousand  pounds.  He 
ordered  the  jester  to  be  sent  to  the  king,  but  the 
"  poor  fool  took  on  so,  and  fired  up  in  such  a  rage 
when  he  saw  that  he  needs  must  depart  from  my 
lord,"  that  Wolsey  had  to  send  six  sturdy  yeomen 
to  bring  him  to  the  royal  palace. 

Besides  his    offices   Wolsey  lost  all    his    friends. 
The  jealous  nobles  were  only  too  glad  to  see  him 


152 

banished.  They  persuaded  Henry  to  disgrace  him 
still  more.  Finally  he  was  arrested  for  high  trea- 
son, and  summoned  to  England.  The  old  man  set 
out,  broken  in  spirit  and  body.  Only  his  servants 
and  the  poor  country  people  remained  loyal  to  him. 
They  stood  in  crowds  at  the  gate,  weeping  as  he 
passed  through,  and  crying,  "  God  save  your  Grace  !" 


II^^^Eh        '  '     <4$si§sk~ 

5& 

HK  1 9 

fjm   n BWy^H WMFffi fr^al ' 

r  -i  fflHff^Wi 

'"^^MttfttK^^flfl 

Wolsey  at  Leicester  Abbey. 


Wolsey  never  reached  London.  At  Leicester  Abbey 
he  was  obliged  to  stop,  and  he  was  so  weak  that  they 
had  to  lift  him  from  his  mule. 

"  I  am  come  hither  to  lay  my  bones  among  you," 


153 

he  said,  and  in  two  days  his  words  had  become  true. 
As  he  lay  there  dying,  he  turned  to  the  monks  and 
said,  "  If  I  had  served  God  as  diligently  as  I  have 
done  the  king,  he  would  not  have  given  me  over  in 
my  gray  hairs." 

QUEEN    ELIZABETH 

On  the  ioth  of  September,  1533,  the  bell  on  the 
Friars'  Church  proclaimed  that  some  great  event  was 
to  take  place  within  its  walls.  The  gray  front  of  the 
church  was  hung  with  colored  banners  and  tapestries, 
and  green  rushes  were  strewn  from  the  church  doors 
to  the  palace  of  the  king.  Within  waited  the  mayor 
in  his  magnificent  gown  of  crimson,  and  all  the  alder- 
men dressed  in  scarlet  with  chains  of  gold  about  their 
necks.  Forty  of  the  chief  citizens  were  there  too, 
and  the  entire  council  of  the  city.  They  were  gath- 
ered about  a  silver  font  set  in  the  midst  of  the  church 
under  a  gorgeous  red  canopy  hung  with  golden  fringe. 
When  all  was  ready,  a  side  door  opened,  and  the  old 
Duchess  of  Norfolk  issued  forth,  bearing  in  her  arms 
a  wee  baby,  who  was  all  but  hidden  in  a  purple 
mantle  lined  with  ermine,  so  long  that  a  court  lady 
had  to  carry  the  train.  No  less  a  person  than  the 
Bishop  of  London  stood  waiting  at  the  door,  and  all 
the  great  men  of  the  realm  followed  behind  this  little 


154 

child.  Very  solemnly  was  the  service  read,  and  the 
christening  performed,  and  then  the  king-of-arms 
stepped  forward  and  cried;  "God  of  his  infinite  good- 
ness send  prosperous  life  and  long  life  to  the  high 


Queen  Elizabeth. 

and  mighty  princess  of  England,  Elizabeth."  For 
this  was  the  christening  of  the  little  daughter  of 
Henry  VIII  and  Anne  Boleyn.  Then  the  great 
trumpet  blew,  and  the  godfathers  and  godmothers 
brought  forward  their  presents  of  gold  and  silver 
cups,  and  then  the  wee  princess  was  hurried  home 


155 

as  fast  as  could  be,  and  put  back  to  sleep  again  in  her 
royal  cradle. 

It  was  twenty-five  years  later  that  the  princess 
Elizabeth  became  queen  of  England.  On  that  day 
every  bell  in  England  was  rung;  great  bonfires  blazed 
high  into  the  sky  on  every  street  corner  ;  and  tables 
were  brought  out  on  to  the  street  where  all  might  eat 
and  drink  and  cry,  "  Long  Live  Good  Queen  Bess  !  " 

The  queen  herself  was  at  Hatfield,  but  she  made 
ready  at  once  to  start  for  London  to  be  crowned. 
The  city,  too,  made  all  haste  to  receive  her  with  the 
greatest  pomp  and  ceremony.  On  the  14th  of 
January,  1558,  Elizabeth  passed  from  the  Tower  to 
Westminster,  surrounded  by  all  the  barons  and 
noblemen  of  the  realm.  "And  to  all  that  wished 
her  Grace  well  she  gave  hearty  thanks,  and  to  such 
as  bade  God  save  her  Grace  she  said  again  God 
save  them  all,  and  thanked  them  with  all  her  heart; 
so  that  on  either  side  there  was  nothing  but  o:lad- 
ness,  nothing  but  prayer,  nothing  but  comfort." 

As  the  procession  came  to  Fan  Church,  the  queen 
saw  that  a  huge  scaffolding  had  been  erected  over 
the  street,  and  that  a  little  child  in  costly  gown 
stood  upon  it.  She  bade  her  chariot  stop,  and  all 
to  be  still  while  the  little  child  bowed  low  before  the 
queen  and  recited  a  long  poem  in  her  honor.  It 
ended  with  this  quaint  verse :  — 


1 56 

"  Welcome,  therefore,  O  Queen,  as  much  as  heart  can  think ; 
Welcome  again,  O  Queen,  as  much  as  tongue  can  tell ; 
Welcome  to  joyous  tongues  and  hearts  that  will  not  shrink ; 
God  thee  preserve  we  pray,  and  wish  thee  ever  well." 

As  the  child  ended,  the  people  gave  a  great  shout, 
and  the  queen  thanked  the  child  and  the  city  for 
their  gentle  welcoming. 

Then  the  procession  moved  on  once  more,  and 
all  along  the  way  there  were  crowds  of  people  in 
holiday  dress,  and  at  every  corner  there  were  won- 
derful tableaux  and  pageants  arranged  for  the 
queen's  pleasure,  and  at  last  the  queen  was  pre- 
sented with  a  purse  of  gold  so  heavy  that  it  took 
both  her  hands  to  lift  it.  Then  she  stood  up  in 
her  chariot,  and  great  stillness  fell  upon  the  crowd, 
for  they  knew  that  the  queen  was  going  to  speak. 

"  I  thank  my  Lord  Mayor,"  she  said,  "  his  brethren, 
and  you  all.  And  whereas  your  request  is  that  I 
should  continue  your  good  lady  and  queen,  be  ye 
assured  that  I  will  be  as  good  unto  you  as  ever 
queen  was  to  her  people.  No  will  in  me  can  lack, 
neither  do  I  trust  shall  there  lack  any  power.  And 
persuade  yourselves,  that  for  the  safety  and  quiet- 
ness of  you  all  I  will  not  spare,  if  need  be,  my 
blood.     God  thank  you  all." 

The  next  day  the  queen  was  crowned.  While 
she  was  sitting  at  dinner  in  the  great  hall  at  West- 


157 

minster,  a  knight,  in  full  armor,  riding  a  beautiful 
charger,  rode  into  the  hall,  and  casting  down  his 
gauntlet  at  her  feet,  offered  to  fight  any  knight  or 
noble  who  should  deny  that  she  was  England's 
right  and  lawful  queen.  And  Elizabeth  took  a  cup 
of  solid  gold,  and,  filling  it  with  costly  wine,  sent  it 
to  him  as  his  fee.  Thus  the  feast  closed,  and  the 
queen  went  in  state  to  the  church. 

Kneeling  before  the  high  altar,  with  a  red  silken 
mantle  thrown  about  her,  Elizabeth  was  anointed 
and  crowned  queen  of  England.  A  sword  was 
hung  at  her  side  and  the  crown  set  upon  her  head 
while  the  trumpets  sounded ;  a  ring  placed  on  her 
finger  and  the  scepter  in  her  hand.  Then  the 
lords  came  and  knelt  before  her  Grace,  and  kissed 
her,  and  all  the  bishops  did  the  same. 

And  the  next  day  great  tournaments  were  held  to 
honor  the  coronation. 

Throughout  her  reign  this  same  splendor  was 
kept  up  at  Elizabeth's  court.  The  noblemen 
dressed  in  the  most  gorgeous,  bright-colored  satins 
and  velvets,  and  the  queen  is  said  to  have  left  no 
less  than  three  thousand  beautiful  gowns  in  her 
wardrobe  when  she  died.  The  queen,  too,  was  very 
fond  of  compliments  and  flattery,  and  always  kept 
at  her  court  some  of  the  handsomest  young  lords  of 
the    kingdom    to    pay  her  homage.     Among  these 


158 

favorites  was  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  whom  the  queen 
treated  with  such  marked  favor  that  many  believed 
that  she  would  some  day  marry  him.  She  even 
went  in  great  state  to  his  beautiful  castle  at  Kenil- 


;  ■   Jfffl 

|  Ki  | 

ffir^froiP  iSiB  '  Ml 

Ruins  of  Kenilworth  Castle. 

worth,  where  the  earl  spent  a  large  fortune  in 
entertaining  his  royal  guest.  But  Elizabeth  never 
married.  She  was  known  as  the  virgin  queen,  and 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  another  young  favorite,  named 
the  colony  which  he  founded  in  the  New  World 
Virginia  in  her  honor.  Raleigh's  bold  and  brave 
deeds,  his  witty  tongue,  and  handsome  blue  eyes 
won  him  favor  at  court,  and  for  years  Elizabeth  held 
him  as  her  trusted  knight.  When,  however,  he  fell 
in   love  with  one  of  her  court  ladies  and  married 


159 


i6o 

her,  Elizabeth  sent  him  away  in  disgrace,  and  even 
imprisoned  him  six  months  in  the  Tower. 

But  Elizabeth's  time  was  not  all  spent  on  her  own 
pleasure.  One  reason  why  she  never  married  was 
because  she  wanted  to  rule  over  her  kingdom 
herself.  England  was  poor  when  she  came  to  the 
throne,  and  war  with  Europe  was  brewing.  Eliza- 
beth had  the  prosperity  of  the  land  at  heart.  She 
gave  orders  herself  that  manufactures  and  commerce 
should  be  encouraged.  She  kept  repeating  to  the 
nobles,  "  No  war,  my  lords,  no  war,"  and  she  made 
them  heed  her.  In  the  meantime  while  England 
was  at  peace,  she  built  up  her  navy  and  drilled  her 
armies  so  that  if  war  had  to  come,  England  would 
be  able  to  defend  herself.  A  new  era  had  begun 
in  England,  which  has  become  famous  as  the  age 
of  Elizabeth. 

THE   SPANISH    ARMADA 

Besides  her  own  noblemen  there  were  princes  of 
royal  blood  who  came  seeking  Elizabeth's  hand.  One 
of  the  first  was  Philip  II  of  Spain,  a  most  ambitious 
prince.  When  Elizabeth  refused  his  offer  of  mar- 
riage, Philip  became  at  once  her  rival,  and  afterwards 
her  open  enemy.  Whenever  the  English  and  Spanish 
met,  were  it  in  trading  in  the  Netherlands,  sailing 


i6i 


on  the  High  Seas,  or  founding  colonies  in  the  New 
World,  quarreling  and  often  bloodshed  followed. 

Among  English  seamen,  no  one  carried  a  deeper 
hatred  for  Spain  in  his  heart  than  Sir  Francis  Drake, 
who  was  one  of  the  bravest  adventurers  of  Eliza- 
beth's reign.  He 
was  born  on  an  old 
ship  moored  off 
Chatham  Bay,  and 
grew  up  with  a 
love  of  the  sea. 
He  went  to  sea 
first  on  a  small 
vessel  that  traded 
with  Holland,  and 
it  was  while  he 
was  in  Holland 
that  he  saw  with  his  own  eyes  how  cruelly  the 
Spanish  king  treated  his  Dutch  subjects.  After- 
wards, he  himself  was  treacherously  dealt  with 
by  the  Spaniards.  He  was  driven  by  storm  into 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  where  the  Spanish  colonists 
invited  them  to  land  and  refit  their  vessels.  Then, 
suddenly,  without  any  warning,  the  Spanish  attacked 
them,  and  they  lost  half  of  their  ships.  Drake  in 
righteous  indignation  swore  that  henceforth  Spain 
should  receive  no  mercy  from  his  hand. 

LIT.    STO-    OF   ENG.  —  1 1 


I  62 

Drake  had  many  adventures.  He  was  one  of  the 
first  English  navigators  to  sail  round  the  world,  and 
as  a  reward  for  his  brave  spirit  was  knighted  by  the 
queen.  But  his  greatest  triumph  was  when  he 
"  singed  the  King  of  Spain's  beard." 

Philip  II  had  long  been  gathering  and  equipping 
a  great  fleet,  with  which  he  hoped  some  day  to 
conquer  England.  This  was  the  dream  of  his 
heart.  When  Drake  heard  about  it,  he  sailed 
quietly  out  of  Plymouth  harbor,  with  twenty-eight 
vessels  in  his  wake.  With  a  boldness  that  made  his 
officers  mad,  he  sailed  his  fleet  around  the  Spanish 
coast,  straight  for  the  Bay  of  Cadiz,  where  Philips 
largest  ships  lay  at  anchor.  The  sun  was  just 
sinking  below  the  horizon  when  the  English  ships 
entered  the  harbor,  Drake's  vessel,  the  Dragon,  at 
their  head.  Before  the  Spanish  realized  what  had 
happened,  some  of  their  finest  ships  had  been  sunk, 
others  had  been  plundered,  and  Drake  was  setting 
sail  for  home.  Philip's  fleet  would  not  conquer 
England  that  year.      Drake  had  singed  his  beard. 

But  twelve  months  later  a  small  English  vessel 
came  running  against  the  wind  into  Plymouth  har- 
bor, bringing  the  exciting  news  that  the  Invincible 
Spanish  Armada,  as  Philip  called  his  fleet,  had 
been  seen  off  the  Cornish  coast.  Beacon  fires  of 
warning  were  lighted  all  along  the  English  shore. 


1 63 

The  warning  flew  to  London.  Swift  messengers 
galloped  behind,  bringing  the  latest  news.  The 
queen  herself,  mounted  on  a  white  horse,  rode 
among  her  troops.  Her  ministers  begged  her  not 
to  expose  herself  to  clanger  but  her  answer  was 
made  to  her  troops.  "  Let  tyrants  fear,"  she  said. 
"  I  have  always  so  behaved  myself  that,  under  God, 
I  have  placed  my  chiefest  strength  and  safeguard 
in  the  loyal  hearts  and  good  will  of  my  subjects 
and  therefore  I  am  come  amongst  you,  as  you  see, 
resolved  in  the  midst  and  the  heart  of  battle,  to 
live  or  die  amongst  you  all.  I  know  that  I  have 
the  body  of  a  weak  and  feeble  woman,  but  I  have 
the  heart  of  a  king,  and  of  a  king  of  England  too." 

England  had  only  thirty-six  ships  in  her  navy  to 
respond  to  the  queen's  call,  but  every  sea  rover, 
every  merchant,  and  many  private  gentlemen  own- 
ing ships,  hastened  to  England's  defense. 

In  the  meantime  the  Armada  was  coming  on. 
The  English  saw  it  approaching,  one  hundred  and 
thirty-two  vessels  in  all,  sailing  along  in  the  form 
of  a  half  moon,  seven  miles  from  horn  to  horn. 
These  huge  galleons  arose  like  white  castles  out 
of  the  blue  sea.  They  came  on  slowly,  although 
their  sails  were  full,  "the  winds  bein^  as  it  were 
weary  with  wafting  them,  and  the  ocean  groaning 
under  their  weight." 


164 

The  Spanish,  knowing  their  strength,  wished  to 
meet  the  English,  but  the  English  got  out  of  their 
way,  and  let  the  "Invincible  Armada"  pass  un- 
harmed up  the  Channel.  At  last  the  Spanish  ships 
dropped  anchor  off  Calais.  For  a  day  they  rode 
there,  undaunted  in  their  strength.  But  at  midnight 
eight  huge  English  ships  came  sailing  toward  them 
through  the  darkness.  The  night  was  black,  but 
the  ships  were  blacker  still.  They  were  bound  each 
to  each,  and  every  spar,  mast,  and  hull  was  smeared 
with  tar.  At  a  given  signal  a  line  of  fire  ran  across 
the  bow  of  one.  Before  the  Spanish  could  believe 
their  eyes,  the  darkness  had  become  as  day,  for  eight 
blazing  ships  were  drifting  with  wind  and  tide  into 
their  midst.  Their  flames  seemed  to  leap  into  the 
heavens.  In  the  uttermost  confusion,  the  Spanish  cut 
their  cables  and  put  out  to  sea,  each  vessel  for  itself. 

In  the  morning  the  English  were  ready,  and  fell 
upon  the  disorderly  Armada.  For  two  days  Drake 
and  Howard  chased  the  Spanish  vessels.  Then 
their  powder  gave  out,  and  their  shot  failed.  But 
a  tempest  arose  that  played  even  greater  havoc 
with  the  fleet.  It  drove  the  vessels  against  the 
rock-bound  coasts,  wrecking  thirty  valiant  ships. 
When  Philip  heard  the  news,  he  did  not  change 
the  expression  of  his  face.  "  I  sent  the  Armada," 
he  said,  "against  man,  not  against  the  billows." 


i6S 


1 66 

England,  too,  realized  that  her  strength  had  been 
in  the  storm,  as  well  as  in  the  loyal  hearts  of  Drake, 
Howard,  and  Raleigh,  who  had  defended  her  so 
bravely,  for  a  great  medal  was  struck  in  honor  of 
the  victory,  and  it  bore  these  words :  "  God  blew, 
and  they  were  scattered." 


**lc 


SPENSER   AND    THE    FAERIE   QUEEN 

For  many  long  years  England  had  no  singer. 
The  singing  spirit  that  had  awakened  in  Casdmon, 
and  later  in  Chaucer,  seemed  to  have  fallen  into  a 
deep  sleep.  It  seemed  as  if  poets  and  poetry  be- 
longed only  to  the  past.  But  then,  suddenly,  in  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth,  Edmund  Spenser  was  born. 

He  grew  up  unnoticed,  hardly  knowing  himself 
that  he  was  a  poet.  It  is  in  one  of  his  own  poems 
that  he  tells  us  how  the  world  first  came  to  know  of 
his  songs.  He  was  born  in  England,  but  had  gone 
over  to  Ireland  as  a  young  man,  and  there  he  was 
living  in  his  castle  Kilcolman,  when  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  sent  on  a  commission  by  the  queen,  found 
him.  There,  beneath  the  shade  of  "  Old  Father 
Mole,"  as  he  called  the  great,  gray  mountain,  and 
close  by  the  "  Shiny  Mulla  River,"  Spenser  was  liv- 
ing, piping  on  his  reed  like  a  poor  shepherd.     Sir 


167 

Walter  Raleigh  was  somewhat  of  a  poet  himself, 
and  the  two  men  soon  felt  that  they  were  akin. 
Spenser  forgot  his  shyness,  and  read  to  his  guest 
three  books  of  verses,  which  he  called  "  The  Faerie 
Queen,"  and  Raleigh  in  return  recited  some  verses 


Spenser  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 

that  he  had  written  about  the  great  and  noble  Queen 
Elizabeth.  So  each  played  a  merry  tune  upon  the 
shepherd's  pipe.  Then  Sir  Walter  took  his  new- 
found friend  by  the  hand,  and  bade  him  come  back 
with  him  to  England.  He  told  him  that  no  songs 
like  his  had  been  heard  in  England  for  many  a  year, 
and  how  gladly  the  queen,  who  loved  books  and 
men  who  could  write  them,  would  welcome  him. 


i68 

So  Spenser  went  forth  from  his  lonely  castle  to 
the  dazzling  court  of  Elizabeth.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
had  spoken  truly.  The  queen  smiled  upon  him,  and 
all  England  read  with  delight  his  "  Faerie  Queen." 

In  a  letter  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  Spenser  tells 
him  what  he  planned  to  do  in  this  great  book  of 
poetry.  The  hero  of  the  poem  is  to  be  Prince 
Arthur,  a  knight  perfect  in  every  virtue.  There 
are  to  be  twelve  books,  one  for  each  of  the  twelve 
virtues,  and  each  virtue  is  pictured  by  its  own  knight. 
In  the  last  book  the  knight  perfect  in  all  virtues  is 
to  come  to  the  court  of  the  Faerie  Queen.  Unfor- 
tunately Spenser  never  finished  his  great  task,  but 
the  six  books  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen  "  are  the  most 
beautiful  poetry  that  had  been  written  in  the  Eng- 
lish language  since  Chaucer's  "  Canterbury  Tales." 
Every  poet  since  then  has  loved  Spenser's  verses, 
and  every  child  should  read  them,  for  they  are  full 
of  tales  of  wonderful  adventures  in  strange  and  mar- 
velous lands. 

The  first  book  is  about  the  Knight  of  the  Red 
Cross,  who  was  riding  across  the  plain,  clad  in 
mighty  arms  and  a  silver  shield,  and  wearing  a 
blood-red  cross  upon  his  breast.  Beside  him,  on  an 
ass  more  white  than  snow,  rode  a  gentle  lady,  whose 
veil  was  drawn  across  her  face,  and  who  drooped 
as  if  her  heart  was  heavy  with  some  woe.     By  one 


1 69 

fair  hand  she  led  a  milk-white  lamb,  and  the  poet 
tells  that  the  lady  was  as  pure  and  innocent  as  this 
little  creature.  She  had  been  born  a  royal  princess, 
but  a  huge  monster  had  come  into  her  father's  king- 
dom and  laid  waste  the  land.  And  now  this  knight 
was  come  from  afar  to  avenge  her  wrong.  Together 
they  rode  through  the  woods,  among  cedars  "  proud 
and  tall,"  "  the  builder's  oak,  sole  king  of  the  forests 
all,"  the  aspens  that  are  good  for  staves,  and  the 
laurel  that  grows  to  crown  the  brows  of  poets  and 
conquerors.  A  tempest  was  raging,  but  beneath  the 
trees  no  harm  from  wind  nor  rain  could  come  to  the 
knight  and  his  lady.  But  here  in  the  "  Wandering 
Wood "  other  dangers  awaited  them.  Suddenly 
they  found  that  they  had  lost  their  way.  Paths  led 
here  and  there,  but  none  went  forth  from  the  forest. 
At  last  they  chose  the  best  worn  trail,  and  followed 
it  until  it  came  to  a  hollow  cave  amid  the  thickest 
woods.  The  knight  quickly  dismounted,  but  his 
"lady  sought  to  hold  him  back." 

"  Be  well  aware,"  she  said,  "  for  I  know  this  wood 
better  than  thou,  and  the  dangers  that  are  hid 
herein.  This  is  the  Wandering  Wood,  and  yonder 
is  the  den  of  Errour,  a  monster  hated  by  God  and 
man." 

But  the  knight,  full  of  fire,  would  not  be  stayed. 
Forth  into  the  darksome  hole  he  went,  his  glisten- 


170 

ing  armor  making  a  little  light  by  which  he  saw  the 
huge  monster  Errour,  lying  in  its  den.  There  she 
lay  upon  the  ground,  her  long  tail  coiled  and 
knotted  behind  her,  each  knot  pointed  with  a  mortal 
sting.  Like  a  young  lion,  blade  in  hand,  the 
knight  sprang  upon  her,  and  she  in  rage  let  out  a 
frightful  roar,  and,  gathering  her  strength,  leaped 
upon  his  shining  shield.  She  seemed  to  bind  his 
arms  and  hands  and  feet  so  that  he  could  not  move. 
Without,  his  lady  saw  his  sad  plight,  but  urged  him 
on  to  combat. 

"  Now,  now,  Sir  Knight,  show  what  ye  be,"  she 
cried.     "  Add  faith  unto  your  force  and  be  not  faint." 

At  her  words  new  strength  seemed  to  come  to 
him,  and  with  one  mighty  effort  he  drew  his  arm 
forth  from  the  monster's  clutches,  and  strangled  her. 

Then  rode  his  lady  forth  to  meet  him,  and  said:  — 

"  Fair  knight,  born  under  a  happy  star,  well 
worthy  be  you  of  your  armor  wherein  ye  have  great 
glory  now  this  day,  and  proved  your  strength  on  a 
strong  enemy.  This  is  your  first  adventure.  May 
you  have  many  more,  and  in  each  one  succeed  as 
you  have  done  here." 

There  were  indeed  many  more  adventures  that 
befell  this  noble  knight  of  the  Red  Cross  before 
they  arrived  in  the  fair  lady's  native  land.  And 
here  the  knight  met  the  dire  dragon,  whose  wings 


171 

went  round  like  windmills,  and  from  whose  mouth 
issued  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  sulphur.  It  was  a 
terrible  combat,  lasting  three  days,  but  in  the  end 
the  lady  won  back  her  kingdom,  and  the  knight 
won  the  lady's  heart  and 'hand. 


>j*s< 


SHAKESPEARE 

There  were  many  pretty  English  villages  at  the 
time  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  one  of  them  was 
Stratford,  not  many  miles  away  from  Kenilworth 
Castle,  which  the  queen  made  famous  by  her  royal 
visit.  It  was  a  sleepy  village  in  those  days,  lying 
on  the  winding  banks  of  the  Avon  River,  with  the 
great  oak  forests  round  about  it.  There  were 
crooked  little  streets  of  low  wooden  houses  with 
heavy  oaken  doors  shaded  by  penthouses,  and  in 
their  midst  stood  an  old  stone  church,  whose  pretty 
tower  was  often  reflected  in  the  Avon.  In  the 
spring  and  summer  the  village  was  gay  with  color. 
Soft  green  willows  hung  over  the  river,  buttercups 
and  daisies  made  the  banks  glisten  like  gold,  red 
poppies  blew  among  the  wheatfields,  and  gardens 
of  primroses,  pansies,  and  "blue-veined"  violets 
nestled  at  the  side  of  every  home. 

In   one   of  these   houses  there  was  born,  in  the 


172 

spring  of  1564,  a  little  boy  who  was  to  make  the 
pretty,  quiet  village  famous  throughout  the  wide 
world.  He  was  christened  in  the  quaint  old  church, 
and    the   name   that   wTas    given    him   was  William 


F~ 

w-'"     £  l^:  ";MM- 

"''"I       /:)'"             S" 

U;    "llT 

Hiiir.fi 

*%■    x_ 

.  i      II  uuv 

Shakespeare's  Birthplace. 

Shakespeare.  Unfortunately,  we  do  not  know  much 
about  Shakespeare's  life.  We  can  only  imagine 
what  he  did  from  what  we  know  of  the  way  that 
people  lived  in  those  days ;  and  from  the  many, 
many  things  which  he  wrote  in  his  wonderful  plays. 
Probably  Shakespeare  first  learned  his  letters  at 
home  from  a  single  printed  sheet,  set  in  a  wooden 
frame  and  covered  with  a  thin  transparent  horn, 
from  which  it  got  its  name  of  a  "  horn  book."     The 


173 

alphabet  was  printed  upon  it  in  large  and  small 
letters,  and  below  them  the  Lord's  Prayer.  When 
he  could  read,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  seven  years 
old,  the  Stratford  boy  was  sent  to  the  Grammar 
School. 

The  schoolroom  was  very  plain  and  bare.  There 
were  no  pictures  on  the  walls,  and  no  flowers  in  the 
window.  The  only  furniture  was  the  rows  of  desks 
and  hard  wooden  benches.  The  only  lessons 
Shakespeare  probably  learned  were  in  Arithmetic, 
Latin,  and  a  little  Greek.  It  was  not  until  years 
afterwards  that  schoolmasters  first  thought  of  teach- 
ing their  pupils  how  to  speak  and  write  their  own 
tongue. 

It  may  have  been  just  because  his  school  lessons 
were  so  dry  and  uninteresting  that  the  boy,  William 
Shakespeare,  put  himself  so  eagerly  to  school  in  the 
world  about  him.  He  stood  at  the  meeting  of  the 
two  highways  in  the  village  square,  where  the  great 
coaches  that  went  from  one  city  to  another  halted 
to  water  their  horses.  He  listened  to  the  tales  of 
the  drivers  and  the  travelers,  tales  of  the  great  sea 
heroes,  perhaps  Frobisher  and  Drake ;  tales  of  other 
lands  and  strange  islands  lying  far  across  the  sea 
in  the  New  World ;  and  tales  of  the  queen  and  the 
great  court  festivals  at  London.  He  roamed  about 
the  fields  and  meadows,  turning  the  slender  willow 


74 


leaves  over  to  see  their  white  undersides ;  learning 
the  names  of  the  wild  moon  daisies,  the  yellow  rattle 
grass,  and  the  white  milkwort.  With  his  ears  always 
open,  he  listened  to  many  a  marvelous  charm  recited 

by  the  old  women 
of  the  village,  who 
told  him  what 
plants  were  used 
by  the  witches, 
why  the  topaz 
stone  cured  mad- 
ness, and  why  the 
hyacinth  protected 
one  from  light- 
ning. 

Once  or  twice  a 
year  great  county 
fairs  were  held,  to 
which  the  boys  of 
those  days  looked 
forward  as  eagerly  as  modern  boys  do  to  the  circus. 
Here  were  booths  where  all  kinds  of  charms  were 
sold,  love  charms  and  magical  fun  seed,  which  if  put 
in  your  shoes  made  you  invisible.  We  can  imagine 
that  the  boy  Shakespeare  did  not  stay  at  home 
bending  over  his  dull  Latin  when  the  fair  was  go- 
ing on. 


Shakespeare  at  the  Age  of  Twelve. 


175 

Not  far  from  Stratford  there  was  another  town 
which  was  famous  in  those  days  for  its  religious 
plays.  The  plays  were  first  given  by  the  Order  of 
Grayfriars,  but  in  Shakespeare's  time  they  were 
performed  by  the  great  guilds  of  the  town.  The 
guilds  were  the  clubs  in  those  days.  The  weavers 
had  their  guild,  the  merchants  had  theirs,  and  the 
builders  had  theirs.  These  guilds  in  the  country 
performed,  on  the  feast  days  of  the  year,  plays  tell- 
ing the  story  in  simple  English  of  the  birth,  the  life, 
and  the  death  of  Christ.  They  were  not  given  in 
theaters,  but  on  platforms,  which  were*  wheeled  out 
into  the  village  square,  where  great  crowds  of  people 
could  see  the  play. 

Probably  Shakespeare  as  a  boy  saw  these  plays. 
It  may  be  that  later  on  he  heard  of  different  and 
greater  plays  given  in  London,  and  that  the  desire 
to  see  them  took  him  away  from  his  native  village. 
He  was  twenty-one  when  he  came  down  to  London, 
poor  and  friendless.  He  found  his  first  work  in 
standing  outside  of  the  theaters,  and  holding  the 
horses  of  the  gentlemen  who  came  to  see  the  play. 
From  then  until  he  died  he  was  connected  with  the 
theater.  He  acted  some  himself,  he  made  little  cor- 
rections in  the  lines  of  the  plays,  then  he  wrote  a 
play  with  a  friend,  and  finally  he  began  on  his  great 
work  of  writing  plays  alone.     These  plays  were  so 


iy6 


An  Elizabethan  Theater. 

remarkable  that  Shakespeare  performed  them  sev- 
eral times  before  the  queen,  and  became  known  as 
one  of  the  greatest  writers  of  the  day. 

Shakespeare   did    not    invent    new  plots  for    his 
plays,  as    writers  seek   so    often    to    do    nowadays. 


\77 


LIT.  STO.  OF  ENG.  —  12 


178 

He  took  old  stories,  stories  from  Chaucer,  from 
the  Greek,  and  from  the  Latin,  and  turned  them 
into  wonderful  dramas.  He  took  great  historical 
figures  like  Julius  Caesar  and  Mark  Anthony,  and 
made  them  more  real  in  his  dramas  than  any  his- 
torian had  done.  He  read  the  old  English  Chron- 
icles, and  in  a  long  line  of  plays  has  given  us  the 
great  scenes  in  English  history,  from  the  time  of 
the  weak  King  John  through  the  fall  of  Cardinal 
Wolsey.  Sometimes  he  wrote  gay  comedies  of 
love  in  the  spring-clad  forests  of  Arden,  and 
again  he  wrote  the  sternest  of  tragedies,  laying 
the  scene  in  some  rock-bound  castle  in  the  dreary 
North.  He  could  portray  any  kind  of  a  man  or 
woman,  king  or  jester,  princess  or  country  lass, 
and  make  them  live  before  our  eyes. 

His  plays  and  his  theater  brought  him  in  a  great 
deal  of  money.  As  he  grew  older,  he  went  back 
again  to  his  quaint  Stratford,  where  he  lived  with 
his  family  until  he  died.  He  lies  buried  in  the 
little  church  beside  the  river. 


179 

THE    COUSINS    FROM    SCOTLAND 

When  Elizabeth  was  dying,  her  courtiers  be- 
sought her  to  tell  them  who  should  reign  after 
her.  The  old  queen  opened  her  eyes,  and  gave 
this  sharp  reply:  "  Who  indeed  but  our  cousin  from 
Scotland ! " 

This  was  a  memorable  day  for  England.  Ever 
since  the  early  days  when  Caesar  landed  on  the 
island,  there  had  been  fighting  between  the  Britons 
of  the  South  and  the  Picts  of  the  North.  Now  the 
two  countries  were  united  under  the  name  of  Great 
Britain,  with  James  Stuart  as  their  king. 

King  James  left  the  people  of  Edinburgh  in 
tears.  As  he  crossed  the  borderland,  the  English 
cannon  thundered  him  a  loud  and  hearty  welcome. 
All  along  the  route  the  people  hung  flags  and  gar- 
lands of  flowers,  and  great  crowds  shouted  hurrahs 
as  he  passed  by.  They  little  dreamed  then  that  this 
monarch,  to  whom  they  were  now  bowing  so  low, 
was  come  to  scatter  the  prosperity  which  Elizabeth 
had  brought  to  England,  and  sow  the  seeds  of  a  ter- 
rible war. 

The  English  people  are  a  loyal  nation,  and  dur- 
ing the  twenty-two  years  of  James  the  First's  reign 
they  remained  faithful  to  him,  in  spite  of  his  dis- 
honest acts  and  unlawful  deeds.     They  even  let  his 


8o 


son   Charles  be  crowned  after  him  ;  and  as  he  was 

much  more  agreeable  in  his  manner  than  his  father 

had  been,  they  believed  that  he  would  make  a  wiser 

and  better  king.     But  James 

I    had    filled    his    son's    mind 

with  his  own  ideas.      He  had 

taught  him  that    God    had 

chosen  him  to   be    England's 

king,  and   therefore   whatever 

he  did   was   right  and  lawful. 

Throughout   his   life    Charles 

believed    this    to    be 

true.       He    started 

out    to    rule    exactly 

as  he  pleased. 

But  the  English 
Parliament  '  at  last 
awoke.  "  A  king," 
they  said,  "  should 
rule  not  according 
to   his  own    will,  but  Kins  charles  l 

according  to  the  will  of  the  nation."  When  Charles 
refused  to  govern  in  this  spirit,  they  refused  to  grant 
him  money. 

It  was  customary  at  this  time  for  the  House  of 
Commons  to  vote  to  a  new  king  at  the  beginning 
of  his  reign  a  tax  for  life  on  all  goods  which  came 


181 


in  or  went  out  of  the  country.  To  Charles,  the 
House  of  Commons  granted  this  tax  for  one  year 
only.  When  the  year  had  passed,  it  was  not  renewed. 
Then  the  king  asserted  what  he  thought  was  his 
right,  and  ordered  the  merchants  to  pay  him  the  tax. 
Several  who  refused  were  straightway  thrown  into 
prison.  Parliament,  enraged,  now  passed  a  resolu- 
tion that  any  man  who  paid  this  tax  was  an  enemy 
to  the  country.  Then  the  king  took  the  last  step, 
and  dissolved  Parliament.  For  eleven  years  he 
ruled  without  one,  levying  taxes  at  his  own  pleasure. 
It  was  not  until  Charles  saw  that  a  war  with  Scot- 
land would  follow  if  a  new  Parliament  was  not  sum- 
moned, that  he  issued  the  call.  This  meant  merely 
a  renewing  of  the  quarrel  between  the  king  and  the 
state.  One  of  Parliament's  first  acts  was  to  draw 
up  a  lengthy  document  setting  forth  the  bad  conduct 
of  the  kins:  ever  since  he  came  to  the  throne.  But 
even  now  there  were  many  members  of  Parliament 
who  did  not  believe  in  the  faithlessness  of  their  king. 
A  stormy  debate  arose  over  this  document,  which 
was  called  "  The  Great  Remonstrance."  The  session 
lasted  far  into  the  night.  Finally  it  was  passed. 
Feeling  was  so  strong  that  swords  were  drawn. 
Oliver  Cromwell,  one  of  the  leaders  in  carrying 
through  the  Great  Remonstrance,  said  as  he  passed 
out  of  the  hall  at  midnight,  "  If  it  had  not  passed,  I 


182 


would  have  sold  all  my  land  and  goods  to-morrow  and 
left  England  forever." 

The  king  consented  to  having  the  document  read. 
Then  he  turned  around,  and,  accusing  the  five  leaders 
of  the  movement  of  high  treason,  ordered  their  arrest. 
The  House  of  Commons  replied  that  they  would 
consider  the  matter.  Charles  was  in  no  mood  to 
wait.  Urged  on  by  his  queen,  he  went  down  to  the 
House  of  Commons  with  five  hundred  armed  gentle- 
men, and  demanded  these  five  men  to  be  handed 
over  to  him.  But  the  five  men  whom  he  sought 
were  not  there.  The  king's  cheeks  were  flushed 
with  anger.  u  Since  I  see  that  my  birds  are  flown, 
I  do  expect  from  you,"  he  cried,  "  that  you  will  send 
them  to  me  as  soon  as  they  return  hither;  other- 
wise," he  added  threateningly,  "  I  must  take  my  own 
course  to  find  them." 

Charles's  own  course  was  war.  The  queen  fled  to 
Holland  to  sell  the  royal  jewels  to  raise  money  for 
him.  Nobles  and  the  gentlemen  of  the  realm  flocked 
to  his  standard.  The  West  and  the  North  remained 
loyal,  but  the  East  and  the  South,  with  London,  stood 
firm  for  Parliament.  The  king's  forces  wore  their 
hair  long  and  dressed  in  gay  colors.  They  were 
called  the  Cavaliers.  The  army,  which  was  back  of 
Parliament,  wore  their  hair  cut  short,  the  plainest 
of  clothes,   and  queer-shaped  hats  which  won  them 


i83 

the  name  of  Roundheads.  At  their  front  rode  Oliver 
Cromwell.  Cromwell  was  a  Puritan,  and  his  idea  of 
duty  was  stern.  He  filled  his  ranks  with  men  of 
spirit.  He  drilled  them  constantly.  His  discipline 
was  very  strict.  If  a  man  in  his  army  swore,  he  was 
fined  a  shilling.  If  a  man  got  drunk,  he  was  put  in 
the  stocks.  If  he  called  one  of  his  mates  a  Round- 
head, he  was  dismissed  from  the  army.  It  was  this 
leader  and  these  men  that,  in  the  end,  gave  Parlia- 
ment the  victory. 

The  war  went  on  many  years  with  shifting  for- 
tunes. The  end  of  it  was  that  the  king  was  sum- 
moned before  Parliament  to  be  tried.  This  trial 
was  not  lawful.  No  subject  had  a  right  to  call  his 
king  to  account  for  his  deeds.  No  action  of  the 
House  of  Commons  could  become  a  law  unless  it 
was  passed  upon  by  the  House  of  Lords  and  the 
king.  But  Charles  had  proved  himself  faithless  and 
a  tyrant.  He  had  thrown  his  country  into  a  civil 
war.  He  was  convinced  that  all  that  he  had  done 
was  right,  and  no  man  on  earth  could  make  him 
confess  that  he  was  wrong  or  promise  to  rule  other- 
wise in  the  future.  When  he  was  brought  before 
Parliament,  he  refused  to  plead  his  case.  He  was 
tried,  not  as  the  king,  but  as  plain  Charles  Stuart. 
The  fifth  day  of  the  trial,  he  was  condemned  to 
death. 


Charles  met  nothing  in  life  so  nobly  as  he  did  his 
death.  He  asked  only  that  he  might  first  see  two 
of  his  children,  his  little  thirteen-year-old  daughter 
Elizabeth,  and  his  nine-year-old  son.     As  they  came 


Children   of  Charles  I, 


into  the  room  Charles  drew  his  son  to  his  knee  and 
kissed  him  gently.  "  Sweetheart,'1  he  said,  "  now 
they  will  cut  off  thy  father's  head  ;  mark,  child,  what 
I  say:   They  will  cut  off  my  head  and  perhaps  make 


r85 

thee  a  king ;  but  mark  what  I  say:  You  must  not 
be  king  as  long  as  your  brothers  Charles  and  James 
do  live ;  for  they  will  cut  off  your  brothers'  heads 
when  they  can  catch  them,  and  cut  off  thy  head  too, 
at  the  last;  and  therefore  1  charge  you  not  to  be 
made  king  by  them." 

And  the  little  boy  looked  earnestly  into  his  father's 
face  with  great  tears  in  his  eyes  and  cried,  "  I  will 
be  torn  to  pieces  first." 

Then  the  king  turned  to  his  little  daughter  Eliza- 
beth and  spoke  very  gently  to  her.  "  Do  not  grieve 
and  mourn  for  me  when  I  am  gone,"  he  said;  "for  I 
am  dying  for  England's  liberty.  And  you  must  for- 
give my  enemies,  even  as  I  hope  God  will  forgive 
them,  my  daughter."  Then  he  kissed  her,  and  bade 
her  say  to  her  mother  that  his  love  had  never  strayed 
from  her,  but  was  the  same  to  the  very  end. 

So  the  little  prince  and  princess  bade  their  father 
a  sad  farewell,  scarce  understanding  the  words  that 
he  had  spoken  to  them. 

A  few  days  later  came  the  morning:  on  which  he 
was  to  die. 

"  Bring  me  a  warmer  shirt  than  usual,"  Charles 
said  to  his  servant,  as  he  was  dressing.  "  For  the  air 
is  sharp  and  cold  and  I  would  not  shiver  on  the  way, 
lest  my  people  should  think  that  I  was  trembling 
with  fear," 


1 86 


Then  he  went  quickly  and  calmly  to  the  scaffold, 
and  died  like  a  true  gentleman. 


^x>X*!< 


OLIVER   CROMWELL 

The  king  was  dead,  and  through  England  went 
the  proclamation  that  it  was  treason  to  give  that 
title  again  to  any  man.  England  was  declared  a 
commonwealth.  There  was  to  be  no  longer  a  House 
of  Lords;  England  should  be  ruled  henceforth  by 
Parliament.  But  it  did  not  take  long  to  see  where 
the  real  power  that  was  to  govern  England  lay. 
When  Ireland  revolted  against  the  Commonwealth, 
it  was  not  Parliament  that  subdued  her.  When  the 
men  of  Scotland  arose  and  declared  that  they  had 
no  part  in  the  execution  of  Charles  I  and  were  loyal 
to  his  son  Prince  Charles,  it  was  not  Parliament  that 
drove  the  young  prince  from  the  land  and  forced 
Scotland  to  yield  once  more  to  the  English.  The 
commanding  power,  the  strong  right  arm  of  the 
nation  at  this  time,  was  in  Cromwell's  arm  v.  Be- 
lieving  in  the  righteousness  of  his  cause,  Cromwell 
marched  against  town  after  town  in  Ireland,  conquer- 
ing without  mercy.  Scarcely  had  he  Ireland  under 
his  hand  than  the  word  reached  him  that  Scotland 
was  offering  Prince  Charles  the  crown.     On  June 


i87 

24,  the  young  prince  landed  in  Scotland.  One 
month  later  Cromwell  crossed  the  border  with  his 
He  marched  boldly  against  Edinburgh,  but 


ar 


my. 


the  Scottish  forces  were  too  strong  for  him  to  dare 


Cromwell  before  a  Portrait  of  Charles  I. 

attack  them.  His  outlook  was  most  discouraging. 
He  started  to  retreat ;  but  the  Scotch  had  seized  the 
pass  through  which  led  the  road  down  into  England. 
On  one  side  stretched  the  great  blue  summer  sea. 
On  the  other  rose  the  hills,  which  were  alive  with 
Scottish  troops.  Had  the  Scots  had  patience, 
Cromwell  could  never  have  defeated  them  at  Dun- 


bar.  But  they  grew  weary  of  waiting,  and  decided 
to  make  the  attack  themselves.  On  the  morning  of 
September  3,  Cromwell  saw  them  descending  the 
hillsides.  He  waited  until  they  had  reached  the 
bottom,  and  then  he  charged  with  his  whole  army 
into  the  midst  of  them  ;  driving  them  hopelessly  back 
against  the  hillside.  "  Let  God  arise,  let  his  enemies 
be  scattered!  "  were  the  words  which  arose  to  the  lips 
of  the  victor  as  he  saw  the  ruins  of  the  noble  Scot- 
tish army  at  his  feet.  But  the  Scots  would  not  call 
themselves  beaten.  A  year  later,  with  their  young 
king  in  the  midst  of  them,  they  met  Cromwell  again 
at  Worcester.  This  was  the  last  time  that  Crom- 
well drew  sword  for  England.  His  victory  was 
complete.  The  young  king  took  refuge  in  flight. 
Cromwell's  soldiers  were  on  the  watch  for  him 
throughout  the  land,  but  Charles  finally  escaped, 
although  those  days  were  full  of  adventure  for  him. 
He  hid  first  in  a  peasant's  house,  where  he  cut  off  his 
hair  and  put  on  the  coarse  homespun  clothes  of  a 
farmer.  Hearing  that  there  were  spies  about,  the 
peasant  led  the  king  away  at  night  into  the  forest, 
and  hid  with  him  there  high  in  the  leafy  branches  of 
a  monstrous  oak.  Then  he  made  his  way  farther  dis- 
guised as  a  servant,  and  rode  down  to  Bristol  with  a 
Miss  Lane  on  the  pillion  behind  him.  Here  he 
came  near  being  discovered,  but  he  finally  bribed  a 


1 89 

fisherman  to  take  him  to  France,  where  he  waited 
until  his  people  should  again  summon  him  back  to 
be  their  king. 

The  hero  of  the  hour  now  in  England  was  Oliver 
Cromwell.  Fie  turned  from  the  victories  of  war  to 
the  victories  of  peace.  The  tasks  that  confronted 
him  now  were  harder  than  waging  war.  The  cour- 
age needed  to  do  them  was  greater  than  the  bravery 
of  battle.  But  when  the  hour  of  danger  struck, 
Cromwell  never  faltered. 

England  was  now  a  republic.  She  was  to  be 
governed  henceforth  by  the  people.  Cromwell  soon 
saw  that  the  Long  Parliament  did  not  represent  the 
people.  He  saw  that  it  was  not  ready  to  bring  about 
needed  reforms.  It  did  not  have  the  public  good  at 
heart.  One  day,  seated  in  the  midst  of  Parliament, 
the  spirit  of  anger  blazed  forth,  and  he  cried  out  in 
a  voice  that  shook  the  roof :  "  Come,  come  !  We 
have  had  enough  of  this.  I  will  put  an  end  to  this. 
It  is  not  fit  that  you  should  sit  here  any  longer." 
And  he  called  in  his  soldiers  and  cleared  the  room. 
That  was  the  end  of  the  Long  Parliament. 

Now  England  was  completely  in  the  power  of 
Cromwell  and  his  army.  But  it  was  not  a  time  of 
rejoicing  for  the  conqueror.  He  felt  only  too  keenly 
the  burden  of  the  task  that  lay  before  him.  As 
he    watched  the  members  of   Parliament  crowding 


190 


through  the  doors,  his  anger  turned  to  sadness.     "  It 
\s  you,  you,"  he  sighed,  "  that  forced  this  upon  me.    I 


Cromwell  ends  the  Long  Parliament. 

have  sought  the  Lord  night  and  day  that  He  would 
rather  slay  me  than  put  upon  me  the  doing  of  this 
work." 

With  a  heavy  heart  Cromwell  looked  over  the  land. 
The  king,  the  lords,  and  now  the  commons  had 
fallen  because  they  had  failed  to  fulfill  the  duties 
that  had  been  made  their  trust.  He  decided  to  call 
together  a  body  of  godly  men  to  govern  England. 
Among  those  whom  he  selected  was  one  man  named 
Praise   God   Barebones.      Afterwards,  when   it  was 


i9i 

found  how  unwisely  these  good  men  ruled,  they  were 
nicknamed  Barebones'  Parliament.  They  finally 
were  forced  to  resign  because  they  did  not  know  how 
to  govern.  Cromwell  was  chosen  Lord  Protector  of 
the  realm,  and  another  Parliament  was  summoned. 
Later  Parliament  offered  Cromwell  the  title  of  king, 
but  he  refused  it ;  and  yet  he  saw  that  his  strength 
alone  would  save  England  in  those  clays.  He 
brought  the  foreign  wars  to  an  end,  and  kept  his  own 
army  well  trained  to  put  clown  any  civil  uprising. 
He  determined  that  Parliament  should  govern  by 
high  ideals.  When  he  saw  them  weakening,  he  dis- 
solved  the  Parliament.  He  stood  alone,  one  man, 
before  them  and  spoke  unflinchingly.  "  I  can  say 
in  the  presence  of  God,  in  comparison  with  whom 
we  are  but  like  poor  creeping  ants  upon  the  earth,  I 
would  have  been  glad  to  have  lived  under  any  wood- 
side,  to  have  kept  a  flock  of  sheep,  rather  than  under- 
taken such  a  government  as  this."  Then  he  bade 
the  members  of  Parliament  go  out  of  the  room  and 
back  to  their  homes.  "  The  Lord  judge  between  me 
and  you,"  were  his  farewell  words  to  them. 

This  was  Cromwell's  last  Parliament.  That  sum- 
mer he  lost  his  favorite  daughter.  His  health  had 
been  broken  by  his  long  hard  years  of  active  service, 
and  this  shock  was  too  great  for  him.  On  August 
30  a  great  storm  raged  over  England.     The  winds 


192 

howled  and  the  great  trees  were  swept  down  as  reeds. 
For  three  days  life  and  death  battled  for  Cromwell's 
brave  soul.  On  September  3,  the  anniversary  of 
his  great  battle  at  Dunbar,  he  passed  away.  His 
dying  words  were  a  prayer  for  the  English  people 
for  whom  so  many  years  he  had  fought  and  worked. 
"  Lord,"  he  prayed,  "  however  thou  do  dispose  of  me, 
continue  and  go  on  to  do  good  to  them.  Give  them 
consistency  of  judgment,  one  heart,  and  mutual  love." 
Even  in  death  he  never  forgot  the  duty  that  had 
fallen  to  his  hand  to  do. 


>**ic 


THE   PILOT    OF   THE   STATE 

When  Queen  Elizabeth  died  without  leaving 
an  heir,  England  summoned  one  of  the  Stuarts  to 
her  throne.  Now  when  the  great  Protector  lay 
dead  and  England  found  herself  once  more  with- 
out a  ruler,  she  turned  again  to  the  Stuarts, 
calling  Prince  Charles  to  come  back  across  the 
seas  and  wear  the  English  crown.  Two  Stuarts 
reigned  before  the  revolution,  and  the  second  died 
upon  the  scaffold.  Two  Stuarts  reigned  after  the 
war,  and  the  second,  James  II,  was  obliged  after 
three  years  to  flee  for  his  life  from  the  land  which 
called  him  kino:.     The  crown  was   now  offered  to 


193 


his    daughter    Mary,    who    had    married    a    Dutch 
prince,  William  of  Orange. 

William  and   Mary  ruled  jointly  for    five  years, 
and  then  the  queen  died.     William  looked  about 


■-- 

M^k*- 

>  :.;.:.v    | 

!;;;  .  ^ 

:-|l 

fern'- ; 

rJi 

EwB 

51 

p!    »i 

H;  _^^r; 

r>£^  His     £ 

1 

: 

;■• f-.    |i|i|pf^.»J 

l^pff 

5 

^9fjii, 

1 

wB^ff.    ;:^y 

• 

§! 

y.^-iPfa^  ■'"■    ;i  ,^;: 

a 

r4^ 

:: 

■ 

V__^l.  :  ....  J 

Coronation  of  William  and  Mary. 

him  in  despair.  "  I  was  the  happiest  man  on  earth, 
and  now  I  am  the  most  miserable,"  he  said  to  one 
of  the  bishops  at  the  funeral.  It  seemed  to  him 
perhaps  as  if  the  only  person  in  England  who  loved 

LIT.    STO.    OF   ENG.  1 3 


194 

him  had  suddenly  been  taken  away.  In  Ireland,  in 
Scotland,  and  in  England  the  spirit  of  revolt  was 
ripe.  "  We  do  not  want  to  be  ruled  by  a  Dutch- 
man," was  the  common  cry.  Across  the  Channel 
the  French  king  was  doing  his  utmost  to  depose 
William. 

But  William  faced  his  people  calmly  and  bravely. 
With  sure,  firm  hand  he  put  down  one  rebellion 
after  another.  He  was  just  winning  the  confidence 
of  the  nation  when  he  was  thrown  from  his  horse 
and  died.  Anne,  the  sister  of  Mary,  became 
queen.  Like  Elizabeth,  Anne  never  married.  At 
the  close  of  her  rule  the  throne  again  stood  vacant. 
A  third  time  England  was  obliged  to  call  a  Stuart 
to  wear  her  crown.  Prince  George  of  Hanover  in 
Germany  was  the  great-grandson  of  James  I,  "  our 
cousin  from  Scotland."  He  was  a  dull,  rather  stupid 
man,  knowing  no  word  of  English  and  caring  little 
for  the  English  crown  that  was  now  offered  him. 
It  was  almost  with  reluctance  that  he  left  his  German 
friends  to  become  England's  king.  Moreover,  after 
he  was  crowned,  he  took  no  pains  to  learn  to  speak 
English  or  to  understand  the  interests  of  his  people. 
When  he  met  his  ministers,  he  was  distinctly  bored 
by  the  business  that  they  brought  before  him.  He 
could  not  preside  at  these  meetings  because  he 
could  talk  only  through  an  interpreter.     Gradually 


195 


Walpole. 


it  was  seen  that  one  of  the  ministers  must  step  for- 
ward and  govern  the  realm ;  that  there  must  be 
one  minister  who  was  first,  or, 
as  the  Latin  word  is,  prime. 
Ever  since  the  days  of  George  I, 
England  has  had  a  prime  minis- 
ter, a  statesman  who  has  been 
the  pilot  of  the  ship  of  state. 

Walpole  was  the  first  minister 
to  hold  this  important  position. 
For  twenty-one  years  he  was  the 
real  ruler,  for  neither  George  I,  nor  his  son  George 
II,  ever  governed  England.  Walpole  was  not  a 
great  orator,  but  he  had  the  welfare  of  the  people  at 
heart,  and  he  made  wise  laws 
that  helped  to  make  England  one 
of  the  great  industrial  and  com- 
mercial nations. 

The  man  who  succeeded  Wal- 
pole was  William  Pitt,  who  won 
the  name  of  the  Great  Commoner. 
His  face  was  noble,  and  his  voice 
musical  and  powerful.  .  "When 
once  I  am  upon  my  feet  everything  that  is  in  my 
mind  comes  out,"  he  once  said.  And  it  came  out 
with  such  a  volley  of  fire  and  enthusiasm  that  every 
man  in  the  hall  was  thrilled  and  stirred,  to  action, 


Willi 


Pitt. 


Pitt  felt  the  spirit  of  discontent  that  still  lay  buried 
in  the  hearts  of  many.  He  saw  war  with  France 
becoming  more  and  more  threatening.  He  knew 
that  the  old  patriotism  was  dead  or  asleep.  "  Eng- 
land's day  has  passed,"  were  the  words  written  on 
the  faces  of  many  that  he  passed  in  the  street.  "We 
are  no  longer  a  nation,"  were  the  words  that  came 
from  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  great  statesmen. 

The  moment  that  Pitt  became  prime  minister  he 
started  to  rouse  the  people  out  of  their  despond- 
ency. "  Be  one  people  !  "  he  cried.  "  Forget  every- 
thing but  the  public  welfare!  I  set  you  an  example." 
All  through  the  land  rang  this  cry  of  courage.  All 
eyes  were  turned  to  watch  this  new  leader.  It  was 
said  that  no  man  ever  went  to  talk  with  Pitt  but  he 
came  away  feeling  braver  and  more  full  of  hope. 

Pitt  knew  that  it  was  in, the  young  men  that  the 
strength  of  the  nation  lay.  It  was  he  who  selected 
Wolfe  for  the  conquest  of  Canada.  Pitt  knew  the 
spirit  that  was  in  this  man,  who  has  become  one  of 
the  heroes  of  history.  It  was  burning  courage  that 
led  Wolfe  and  his  men,  dragging  their  heavy  cannon 
behind  them,  up  the  steep  and  narrow  path,  leading 
to  Quebec,  under  the  cover  of  the  night.  The  dawn 
broke.  The  battle  began.  As  Wolfe  was  cheering 
his  men,  he  fell,  wounded.  As  they  bore  him  off  to 
the  rear,  he  heard  the  shout,  "  They  run." 


197 


198 

"  Who  run  ? "  he  asked  eagerly,  striving  to  rise. 

"  The  French  run,"  came  the  answer. 

The  young  man  sank  back  with  a  smile  upon  his 
face.     "  I  die  content,"  were  his  last  words. 

Quebec  surrendered,  and  shortly  afterwards  the 
rest  of  Canada,  which  has  ever  since  been  one  of 
England's  finest  colonies. 

In  another  way,  Pitt  showed  how  far-seeing  and 
wise  his  vision  was.  He  saw,  what  the  king  and 
Parliament  could  not  or  would  not  see,  that  the 
American  colonies  had  justice  on  their  side  when 
they  refused  to  be  taxed  without  representation. 
He  knew  the  spirit  that  was  in  these  colonists,  who 
had  left  all  in  England  to  go  out  and  live  in  an 
unknown  and  uncivilized  land.  He  knew  the 
spirit  that  the  sons  had  inherited  from  their 
fathers.  Again  and  again  he  raised  up  his  voice 
in  their  behalf.  "  You  cannot  conquer  America  !  " 
he  cried.  "  If  I  were  an  American,  I  would  never 
lay  down  my  arms,  never,  never,  never."  But  Eng- 
and  would  not  listen  to  his  cry. 

When  Pitt  died,  his  son  took  his  place  and  car- 
ried forward  nobly  the  work  which  his  father  had 
begun.  By  his  statesmanship,  Ireland  became  for 
the  first  time  a  real  part  of  England;  Irish  members 
were  to  sit  in  the  English  Parliament,  and  the  same 
laws  were  to  govern  both  countries. 


199 

The  English  saw  how  wise  it  was  to  have  a  pilot 
of  state,  a  prime  minister.  Some  of  her  greatest 
patriots  have  held  this  position  ;  some  of  her  great- 
est patriots  will  hold  it  in  the  future.  War  among 
the  nations  is  giving  way  to  peace  among  the  na- 
tions. The  warrior  is  no  longer  the  hero  of  the 
country.  The  statesman  is  the  leader,  —  the  pilot 
of  the  state. 

SIR  JOSHUA    REYNOLDS 

One  of  the  greatest  painters  of  children  who 
ever  lived  was  an  Englishman,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
who  was  born  in  Devonshire  during  the  reign  of 
George  I.  Sir  Joshuas  father  was  a  clergyman, 
but  his  ten  brothers  and  sisters  all  loved  art,  and  all 
of  them  could  draw  and  paint.  At  first  the  father 
thought  that  Joshua's  drawings  were  mere  boy's 
play.  He  wanted  his  son  to  be  a  physician,  and, 
when  he  found  that  Joshua  had  neglected  his  Latin 
exercise  to  sketch  on  the  back  of  the  sheet  of  paper, 
he  took  the  drawing  and  wrote  across  it,  "  This 
is  drawn  by  Joshua  in  school  out  of  pure  idleness." 
He  thought  in  this  way  he  would  shame  the  boy, 
but  the  love  of  painting  was  too  deep  in  Joshua's 
heart.  When  he  later  gained  his  father's  consent 
to  go  to  London  and  study  drawing,  he  wrote  home, 


200 

"  While  doing  this  I  am  the  happiest  creature 
alive." 

Joshua  was  thirteen  years  old  when  he  painted 
his  first  portrait.  One  day  when  he  was  in  church 
he  made  a  sketch  of  the  preacher  on  his  thumb  nail. 
After  the  service  he  and  another  boy,  wandering 
along  the  beach,  found  a  piece  of  an  old  sail,  and 
Joshua  stretched  it  out  and  painted  a  portrait  on  it 
from  the  sketch  on  his  thumb  nail.  It  was  after  this 
that  his  father  sent  him  to  Hudson,  a  well-known 
London  portrait  painter. 

The  young  pupil  had  so  much  more  talent  than 
his  master,  that  Hudson  soon  grew  jealous  of  him. 
One  day  he  gave  Reynolds  a  portrait,  and  told  him 

to  take  it  to  a  certain    Mr. that  evening.     A 

hard  storm  came  up  that  evening,  so  Reynolds  did 
not  deliver  the  picture  until  the  following  evening. 
When  Hudson  heard  this,  he  was  so  angry  that  he 
turned  Reynolds  out  of  his  studio.  He  had  only 
been  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  get  rid  of  this 
young  man,  who,  he  saw,  would  soon  be  painting 
portraits  much  better  than  his  own.  Reynolds,  like 
all  other  artists,  was  very  anxious  to  go  to  Italy  and 
see  the  beautiful  paintings  by  the  old  masters ;  but 
like  many  other  artists,  he  was  too  poor  to  go.  The 
chance  came  to  him  quite  unexpectedly.  At  a 
friend's  house  he   met    Admiral  Keppel,  who    was 


201 


then  in  command  of  the  British  squadron  in  the 
Mediterranean.  He  invited  the  young  artist  to  go 
to  Italy  on  his  ship. 

For  four  years  Reynolds  stayed  in  Italy.  He 
went  from  one  great  gallery  to  another,  studying 
and  copying  the  old  masters.  Always  at  his  side 
stood  a  poor  Italian  waif,  who  carried  his  palette  and 
mixed  his  colors.  One  night  at  the  opera,  the 
orchestra  played  a  simple  little  English  song.  It 
awoke  in  Reynolds  such  a  homesickness  that  he 
told  the  little  Italian  boy  the  next  day  that  he  must 
find  a  new  master,  for  he  was  going  back  to  Eng- 
land. Giuseppe  began  to  cry  and  beg  that  he 
might  go  too.  When  Reynolds  saw  how  the  boy 
loved  him,  he  promised  to  take  him  too.  They  set 
out  together,  but  when  they  reached  Lyons  Rey- 
nolds found  that  he  had  scarcely  enough  money  to 
get  home  himself.  He  told  Giuseppe  he  must  re- 
turn to  Italy,  and  he  went  sadly  on  alone  to  Paris. 
Eight  days  later  Giuseppe  met  him  there,  weary 
and  footsore.  He  had  walked  all  the  three  hun- 
dred miles  rather  than  leave  his  friend.  This  devo- 
tion lasted  as  long  as  Giuseppe  lived.  He  worked 
in  Reynolds's  studio,  mixing  his  colors,  preparing 
the  canvas,  and  learning  to  paint  a  little  himself. 
Some  one  once  said  that  he  was  hands  and  feet,  eyes 
and  ears  for  the  artist,  but  Reynolds  replied,  "  He 


202 


is    an    angel  sent    from   God    to    help    me    do   my 
work." 

One  of  the  first  portraits  that  Reynolds  painted 
after  his  return  from   Italy  was  that  of  his  friend, 


( 

:. 

fi 

?«ift<&4fr  iw* 

HU§[            MA 

in? Will  iinrn'iiil    ' 

w\  *\f.     ^%       ''■%&*  >'. 

$%§p  '  %  ^^mm^,  .atir         1 ft? 

i 

Dinner  at  Sir  Joshua's. 

Commander  Keppel.  It  was  so  successful  that 
people  flocked  to  his  studio  to  be  painted.  Among 
them  came  many  famous  men  and  women.  Dr. 
Samuel  Johnson,  the  writer,  became  one  of  his 
dearest  friends.  Reynolds  painted  four  portraits  of 
him,  in  his  rusty  brown  suit  and  uncombed  wig. 
Gibbon,  the  historian,  came  too,  to  sit  for  Reynolds, 
—  a  very  different  model  from  Johnson,  in  his 
velvet   coat,  powdered    and  crimped  wig,  and  gold 


203 


snuffbox  in  his  hand.  Then  there  were  Edmund 
Burke  the  orator,  Goldsmith  the  poet,  and  Garrick 
the  actor,  who  were  all  proud  to  be  painted  by 
Reynolds. 

There  were 
many  beautiful 
women,  too,  who 
sat  for  this  great 
portrait  painter. 
One  of  them  was 
the  Duchess  of 
Hamilton,  who  was 
so  lovely  that  when 
she  entered  the 
queen's  drawing 
room  the  courtiers 
stood  on  chairs  and 
tables  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  her. 
Reynolds  liked  to  paint  children,  and  many  of  his 
masterpieces  are  portraits  of  the  little  English  boys 
and  girls  of  his  day.  He  had  no  children  of  his 
own,  but  his  niece,  Offy,  lived  in  his  home,  and 
Reynolds  painted  her  in  the  costume  of  a  village 
girl  with  a  basket  of  strawberries  on  her  arm. 
Fifteen  years  later  he  painted  Offy's  little  daughter, 
and    called  the  picture  "  Simplicity."     It  was  hard 


*^^B 

!N8 

fr 

Wf-  -jk'M- 

Wr"  •  3B[  *<*>    •  ** 

Wm' "^jfe 

1          °^m*^ 

Px/^lJ 

Br         X-41P^ 

*?\ 

Simplicity. 


204 

for  little  children  to  sit  long  enough  to  have  their 
portraits  painted,  but  Reynolds  was  always  very 
kind.  Once  a  beggar  child  fell  asleep  while  posing 
as  a  model.  The  artist  did  not  wake  him,  but  taking 
a  fresh  canvas,  made  a  sketch  of  the  sleeping  boy. 
Before  it  was  finished  the  child  turned  in  its  sleep, 
and  Reynolds  made  another  sketch  beside  the  first 
one.  Later  he  put  in  a  forest  background,  and 
called  the  picture  "  Babes  in  the  Woods." 

His  famous  "  Angel  Heads  "  is  really  five  portraits 
of  the  same  lovely-faced,  golden-haired  little  girl. 

Reynolds  never  stopped  painting  until  he  grew 
blind  with  old  age.  He  was  deaf,  too,  bujt  he  was 
as  genial  and  kind  as  ever.  Only  once*  he  gave 
way  to  sorrow.  His  pet  canary  escaped,  and  flew 
out  the  window.  For  hours  Reynolds  groped  his 
way  up  and  down  the  square,  trying  in  vain  to  find 
his  little  yellow  companion. 

He  died  in  London  in  the  fullness  of  his  honor, 
and  was  buried  in  the  cathedral  of  St.  Paul,  where 
lies  also  the  great  Dutch  portrait  painter,  Van 
Dyke.  He  left  behind  him  some  three  thousand 
pictures.  In  the  height  of  his  skill  he  could  paint 
and  finish  a  portrait  in  four  hours.  When  Lord 
Holland  discovered  how  short  a  time  Reynolds  had 
worked  on  his  portrait,  and  how  large  a  sum  he 
asked  for  it,  he  remarked,  — 


205 

"  You  get  money  very  quickly.  It  did  not  take 
you  much  time.  How  long  were  you  about  this 
picture  ?  " 

"  All  my  life,"  was  Reynolds's  answer. 

From  his  boyhood  to  his  old  age  he  had  given 
the  best  hours  of  every  day  of  his  life  to  his  art. 


>&z< 


HORATIO    NELSON 


In  the  heart  of  London  lies  a  great  square,  which 
all  day  long  is  crowded  with  people,  and  across 
which  the  London  buses  are  continually  passing. 
High  in  its  midst  stands  a  tall  column  of  massive 
granite,  with  four  couchant  lions  at  its  base.     One 


206 


hundred  and  forty-five  feet  into  the  air  this  column 
rises,  and  on  its  top  stands  the  statue  of  Horatio 
Nelson.       The   people    of    all    England    gave    the 

money  to  raise  this 
monument,  because 
their  love  for  Nel- 
son was  so  great 
that  they  wished 
every  man,  woman, 
and  child  who  came 
to  London  to  think 
at  least  for  a  mo- 
ment of  this  British 
hero.  And  those 
who  will  pause  at 
the  foot  of  the  statue 
and  walk  about  it 
will  see  in  bronze 
relief  four  scenes  in 

Nelson  Monument.  Nelson's      life,    that 

tell  why  the  English  people  dedicated  this  great 
square  and  raised  this  huge  column  to  his  memory. 
When  Horatio  Nelson  was  only  twelve  years  old, 
he  wrote  and  asked  his  uncle  if  he  might  not  go  to  sea 
with  him.  His  uncle  hesitated  a  little,  for  he  knew 
that  the  boy  was  not  very  strong;  but  perhaps  he 
had   heard    Horatio's  answer  to  his  grandmother. 


207 

Horatio  when  a  very  small  child  ran  away  one  day 
with  a  stable  boy  hunting  birds'  nests.  His  parents 
waited  and  waited  ;  they  called,  but  no  answer  came 
back.  At  length  a  search  was  made,  and  he  was 
found  sitting  beside  a  brook  which  he  could  not 
cross.  "  I  wonder,  my  child,"  said  his  grandmother 
to  him,  when  they  brought  him  home,  "  that  hunger 
and  fear  did  not  drive  you  home." 

"  Fear,  grandmama !  "  answered  the  little  boy  ;  "  I 
never  saw  fear,  what  is  it  ?  " 

Another  time  Horatio  and  his  playmates  dis- 
covered some  fine  pears  growing  in  the  school- 
master's garden.  The  boys  considered  the  pears 
were  their  lawful  booty,  but  none  of  them  dared  to 
climb  the  rather  slender  tree  to  pick  them.  When 
Horatio  saw  that  they  all  hesitated,  he  said  at  once 
that  he  would  get  the  pears.  That  night  he  was 
lowered  from  his  bedroom  window  in  some  sheets 
until  he  could  reach  the  pears,  and  when  he  had 
gathered  them  all,  he  was  drawn  slowly  up  again. 
When  he  had  crawled  in  the  window,  he  passed  the 
pears  around  among  the  boys,  keeping  none  for  him- 
self. "I  don't  want  any,"  he  said  scornfully;  "I  took 
them  only  because  all  you  other  boys  were  afraid." 

Perhaps  some  of  the  stories  of  boyhood  pranks 
had  reached  his  uncle's  ears,  for  he  granted  Horatio's 
request  and  Nelson  went  to  sea. 


208 

He  was  a  very  lonely,  small  boy  during  those  first 
few  weeks  on  the  ship,  and  the  work  was  very  hard. 
Sometimes  the  voyage  took  him  into  the  far  North, 
where  the  ship  lay  caught  among  great  cakes  of 
floating  ice.  Sometimes  he  went  far  South,  out  to 
the  East  Indies,  where  he  caught  the  fever  and  lay 
for  weeks  wasting  away.  "  In  those  days,"  he  after- 
wards wrote,  "  I  was  so  weak  and  homesick  that  I 
begged  my  companions  to  toss  me  overboard. 
Then  suddenly  a  love  of  England  sprang  up  within 
me.  England,  my  own  England  !  I  longed  to  do 
something  great  for  her.  '  I  will  be  a  hero,  and 
brave  every  danger,'  I  cried." 

The  four  great  bronze  reliefs  on  Nelson's  monu- 
ment show  how  he  made  good  his  word. 

With  this  resolve  firmly  in  mind,  Nelson  grad- 
ually worked  his  way  up  until  he  became  rear  admiral 
in  the  British  navy,  ready  to  meet  any  enemy  of  his 
country.  These  were  days  when  England  had  her 
foes  and  needed  brave  hearts  to  keep  her  courage 
high.  On  the  western  side  of  Nelson's  statue  the 
relief  shows  how  he  met  and  conquered  the  Spanish 
fleet  off  St.  Vincent. 

Facing  the  north  is  a  scene  from  the  great  battle 
of  the  Nile.  It  is  a  picture  on  the  lower  deck  amid 
the  wounded  while  the  battle  is  still  raging  above. 
Into  this  scene  of  suffering  and  death  suddenly  an- 


209 

other  man  is  brought  and  laid  gently  on  the  deck. 
A  surgeon,  binding  the  wounds  of  a  poor  midship- 
man, glances  up  and  sees  that  the  pale  face  is 
that  of  Admiral  Nelson.  He  drops  his  bandage  to 
rush  forward  and  attend  to  Nelson.  But  the  almost 
unconscious  man  raises  his  hand  to  stop  him. 
"  No,"  he  whispers,  "  I  will  take  my  turn  with  my 
brave  fellows."  Nor  would  he  let  his  own  wounds 
be  touched  until  every  man  who  had  been  wounded 
before  him  had  been  attended.  He  thought  as  he  lay 
there,  that  this  was  his  last  battle.  But  he  was  to 
live  to  see  this  victory  and  others.  This  was  victory 
over  the  French.  Napoleon,  that  great  French  gen- 
eral, was  conquering,  conquering,  conquering  every- 
where he  led  his  army.  A  vision  of  all  Europe 
lying  at  his  feet  stretched  ever  before  his  eyes. 
This  winter  of  1798  he  had  gone  to  Egypt,  thinking 
by  subduing  this  land  he  could  go  on  to  India. 
He  had  gone  by  land  with  a  great  force.  The 
French  fleet  was  following,  when  Nelson  met  them 
and  completely  destroyed  their  forces. 

He  was  now  the  great  English  hero  of  the  day. 
When  he  sailed  into  Yarmouth  harbor,  every  ship 
lying  there  hoisted  her  colors.  In  London  he  was 
feasted  by  the  city,  and  a  great  golden  sword,  studded 
with  sparkling  diamonds,  was  presented  to  him. 
Odes  and  beautiful  presents  poured  in  upon  him. 

LIT.    STO.    OF    ENG. 14 


210 

If  we  walk  around  the  monument  now  to  the 
east,  we  find  a  relief  of  Nelson,  seated  upon  a  can- 
non, concluding  a  peace  with  the  Danes.  In  that 
awful  battle  of  Copenhagen,  he  taught  the  Scandi- 
navians that  England  was  supreme  upon  the  seas. 
But  the  lesson  cost  England  a  terrible  price.  Hun- 
dreds of  precious  lives  were  lost  in  a  day ;  her  ships 
were  badly  damaged ;  her  treasury  was  drained  low 
and  her  debts  were  enormous.  She  needed  peace 
with  Europe.  This  peace  was  broken  five  years 
later  by  Napoleon.  "  The  Channel  is  but  a  ditch," 
he  cried  one  day ;  "  any  one  can  cross  who  has  but 
the  courage  to  try."  He  could  not  longer  keep  his 
eyes  off  those  wonderful  English  isles  that  through 
the  centuries  had  defied  France.  He  longed  once 
and  for  all  to  bring  them  under  the  French  power. 

Not  since  the  days  when  the  great  Armada  came 
sailing  up  the  Channel  in  the  form  of  a  gigantic 
half  moon,  had  England  been  threatened  by  so 
great  a  danger.  But  there  was  one  man  whom  the 
French  dreaded ;  one  man  whom  the  English 
trusted  to  save  them.  This  man  was  Horatio 
Nelson.  Napoleon's  plan  was  to  lead  Nelson's 
squadron  to  the  West  Indies  and  engage  him  in 
battle  there,  with  the  hope  of  cutting  him  off  from  re- 
turning. Then  he  would  be  ready  with  his  troops  on 
the  coast  of  France  to  sail  over  and  attack  England. 


21  I 

But  Nelson  was  not  so  easily  outwitted.  He  re- 
crossed  the  Atlantic  in  advance  of  the  French  ships, 
and  met  them  at  Trafalgar.  The  two  great  fleets 
drew  up  for  battle.  All  was  ready,  awaiting  the 
signal.  Nelson  stood  at  his  post;  all  eyes  were 
turned  upon  him.  He  paused  an  instant.  Through 
the  stillness  his  voice  came  clear  and  confident, 
"  England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty." 

The  bronze  relief  on  the  southern  side  of  the 
monument  in  Trafalgar  Square  pictures  for  us  the 
scene  of  the  battle  of  Trafalgar.  Through  the  aw- 
ful  firing  of  that  battle  came  one  ball  that  struck 
Nelson,  and  he  fell  on  his  face  on  the  deck.  It  was 
in  the  heat  of  action.  Which  way  victory  would 
turn  no  man  knew.  "  Cover  my  face,"  murmured 
Nelson,  as  they  bore  him  below,  "  so  that  my  men 
need  not  know  that  I  have  fallen."  He  felt  that  he 
was  dying.  "  You  can  do  nothing  for  me,"  he  said 
to  the  surgeon.  In  most  intense  pain,  his  lips 
parched  with  fever,  he  lay  waiting,  hoping,  praying 
that  he  should  not  die  until  Captain  Hardy  came  to 
tell  him  that  England  had  won  the  day.  Long  mo- 
ments passed  into  an  hour  and  more  before  Hardy 
came.  He  took  the  commander's  hand,  and,  his 
voice  trembling  with  emotion,  told  him  that  he  had 
won  a  complete  victory. 

"  Kiss  me,  Hardy,"  said  the  dying  hero. 


212 


Hardy  knelt  down  on  the  deck,  and  kissed  the 
bloodless  cheek. 

"  Now  I  am  satisfied,"  he  groaned,  turning  his 
face  away.     "  Thank  God,  I  have  done  my  duty." 


:>XK< 


WELLINGTON,    THE    IRON    DUKE 

In  the  year  1769  there  were  born  into  the  world 
two  boys  who  were  destined  forty-five  years  later  to 
meet  on  one  of  the  greatest  battlefields  of  history. 
One  of  these  boys  was  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  who 
was  to  be  the  greatest  general  who  ever  led  a  French 
army.  The  other  was  Arthur  Wellesley,  who  was 
to  stand  at  the  head  of  the  forces  who  were  at  length 
to  defeat  Napoleon.  The  field  where  this  great 
battle  was  to  be  fought  was  Waterloo. 

Both  boys  were  fighters  even  in  their  school  days; 
both  went  to  military  schools,  and  both  spent  their 
lives  in  the  army.  Year  by  year  Napoleon  climbed 
the  steps  of  his  ambition,  until  he  stood  in  the  great 
cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  crowned  Emperor  of 
France.  But  even  now  his  dreams  had  not  all  been 
realized.  He  sat  hour  after  hour  with  the  great 
map  of  Europe  unrolled  upon  his  desk. 

The  country  of  France  seemed  small  indeed  for 
an    empire.     Caesar  had    started   from    Rome,    and 


213 


had  conquered  all  Gaul.  Why  should  the  river 
Rhine  divide  two  countries,  France  and  Germany? 

Why  should  the 
Pyrenees  stand  as  an 
insurmountable  wall 
separating  France  and 
Spain  ?  Why  should 
the  North  Sea  cut  off 
the  British  Isles  from 
the  coast  of  France? 
He  would  cross  the 
river,  he  would  cross 
the  mountains,  he 
would  cross  the  sea ; 
and,  with  his  army  at 

his  back,  he  tOO  WOuld  Napoleon. 

conquer  an  empire  that  was  worthy  of  the  name. 
Once  more  Europe,  all  Gaul,  should  be  ruled  by  one 
man. 

This  was  the  dream  that  burned  in  Napoleon's 
heart.  Men  looked  into  his  eyes  and  saw  it  there. 
They,  too,  caught  fire.  Because  he  believed  that 
he  could  make  this  dream  real,  they  too  believed. 
They  came  by  hundreds  and  thousands,  offering 
their  lives  to  help  him.  Never  was  there  an 
army  which  marched  forward  with  such  enthu- 
siasm.    Never  was  there  an  army  which  so  adored 


214 

its  general.  Country  after  country  lay  conquered 
at  his  feet.  One  country  alone  stood  apart,  uncon- 
quered  and  defiant.  One  navy  still  rode  proudly 
upon  the  seas.  Those  British  Isles,  lying  almost 
within  sight  of  France,  hung  like  a  ripe  fruit  just 
beyond  Napoleon's  reach.  He  was  never  quite 
able  to  take  his  eyes  from  them.  Even  when 
Nelson  scattered  his  fleet  off  Trafalgar,  he  did  not 
give  up  hope.  If  he  could  not  conquer  England 
upon  the  water,  he  would  conquer  her  upon  the  land. 

If  Napoleon  struck  courage  in  the  hearts  of  the 
men  who  marched  beneath  his  banners,  he  struck 
fear  in  the  hearts  of  those  against  whom  his  banners 
were  unfurled.  Even  England  quailed.  But  there 
were  gallant  men  at  England's  head :  Nelson  in  the 
navy,  and  Arthur  Wellesley,  who  had  been  made 
Duke  of  Wellington,  leading  the  army. 

Like  Nelson,  Wellington's  fighting  was  done  out- 
side of  England.  He  first  met  the  French,  not  on 
English  or  French  soil,  but  in  Spain.  Spain  and 
Portugal  had  both  fallen  into  Napoleon's  power,  but 
their  old  spirit  of  independence  was  not  conquered. 
At  the  first  opportunity  they  revolted  against  their 
overlord,  and  called  in  England  to  help  them.  Wel- 
lington landed  in  Spain,  and  with  a  force  of  two 
thousand  men  won  three  great  battles.  Napoleon's 
dream  was  not  to  come  true.     Slowly  the  European 


215 

states  struggled  to  their  feet,  rallied,  and  with  a 
great  united  effort  forced  the  French  army  back, 
back,  into  Paris,  and  demanded  that  Napoleon 
should  give  up  his  throne.  Disgraced  and  con- 
quered, the  great  general  was  sent  to  the  island  of 
Elba  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  Europe,  worn  and 
shattered,  gathered  her  strength  to  build  up  again 
the  boundary  lines  that  should  mark  out  the  extent 
of  the  separate  countries. 

In  the  midst  of  the  quarreling  and  disputing  that 
took  place  among  the  different  nations,  suddenly  a 
message  was  brought  across  the  land  that  bound  the 
states  of  Europe  together  as  closely  as  if  they  had 
been  yoked  with  iron  chains.  "  Napoleon  has  landed 
in  Europe."  This  was  the  message.  The  congress 
of  the  nations  was  being  held  at  Vienna.  The 
Duke  of  Wellington  was  there,  representing  Eng- 
land. When  he  heard  the  message  he  showed  no 
sign  of  astonishment  or  of  fear.  He  calmly  turned 
to  his  desk,  and  began  drawing  up  a  line  of  action. 
The  other  states  soon  saw  that  he  was  their  natural 
leader.  It  was  his  plan  to  start  at  once  for  the 
Netherlands,  where  there  were  stationed  some  Brit- 
ish troops,  and  to  place  himself  at  their  head.  The 
Prussian  army,  with  Bliicher  in  command,  promised 
to  stand  with  him.  Napoleon  at  once  saw  the  dan- 
ger that  awaited  him.     He  decided  to  move  forward 


2l6 

rapidly,  and,  if  possible,  attack  Bliicher  first  and  an- 
nihilate his  forces  before  Wellington  could  send 
him  aid.     He  would  then  meet  the  English  general. 

On  the  15th  of  June,  word  was  brought  to  Wel- 
lington in  Brussels  that  the  Prussians  had  been 
attacked.  That  night  a  ball  had  been  arranged  at 
the  house  of  the  Duchess  of  Richmond.  Welling- 
ton called  his  officers,  told  them  that  the  French 
were  approaching,  but  bade  them  attend  the  ball 
just  the  same,  keeping  the  news  absolutely  to  them- 
selves. In  the  midst  of  the  dancing  and  feasting 
that  night,  no  one  was  gayer  or  calmer  than  Wel- 
lington. One  by  one  he  saw  his  officers  slip  away, 
and  outside  in  the  street  he  heard  the  tread  of 
marching  feet.  It  was  late  before  he  bade  the 
duchess  good-night.  Just  before  he  went  he 
turned  to  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  and  said  in 
a  low  voice:  "  Have  you  a  good  map  of  the  coun- 
try in  your  house  ?  " 

The  duke  nodded,  and  the  two  went  up  to  a 
bedroom  and  unrolled  it.  "  Bonaparte  has  gained 
a  day's  march  on  me,"  said  Wellington  in  his  calm, 
low  voice.  "  I  have  arranged  to  meet  him  at  Quatre 
Bras.  If  I  am  not  able  to  stop  him  there,  I  will 
meet  him  here,"  and  he  made  a  mark  on  the  map 
with  his  thumb  nail,  at  Waterloo.  The  duke 
passed    out    of    the    brilliantly   lighted    house    into 


217 

the  dark  streets  of  the  city.  He  was  going  to 
meet  Napoleon  for  the  first  and  the  last  time. 
The  battlefield  was  to  be  at  Waterloo. 

It  was  a  desperate  struggle,  —  a  terrible  battle. 
Wellington  never  dismounted  from  his  saddle  all 
day.  The  tide  of  fortune  ebbed  and  flowed.  When 
it  looked  darkest  for  the  English,  suddenly  the  Prus- 
sian troops  arrived,  weary  almost  unto  death  with 
their  long  march.  Their  arrival  decided  the  day. 
"  All  is  lost,"  cried  Napoleon,  as  he  fled  back  through 
the  cover  of  night  to  Paris. 

The  duke  entered  his  tent  about  ten  o'clock. 
Before  him  was  spread  his  dinner,  and  he  sat  down 
and  ate  it  silently.  In  the  midst  of  the  glow  of  vic- 
tory, his  eyes  were  filled  with  visions  of  the  brave 
men  who  had  fallen  on  the  field,  and  his  heart 
ached  with  the  sad  news  that  must  be  sent  to  many 
English  homes  on  the  morrow. 

This  day,  the  18th  of  June,  1815,  was  the  crisis 
in  the  life  of  both  these  men,  who  had  been  born 
into  the  world  in  the  same  year.  Napoleon  gave 
himself  up  a  prisoner  to  the  English,  and  was  taken 
to  a  solitary  isle,  St.  Helena,  far  out  at  sea,  where 
he  spent  the  rest  of  his  life  in  miserable  solitude 
and  idleness.  Wellington  returned  to  England,  hon- 
ored and  esteemed  by  all,  and  ready  to  serve  his 
country  as  nobly  in  peace  as  he  had  done  in  war. 


218 


GEORGE   III 


George  III  was  the  first  of  the  kings  who  bore 
his  name  who  was  an  Englishman.  When  he  met 
Parliament,  on  coming  to  the  throne,  his  opening 
words  were,  "  Born  and  educated  in  this  country,  I 
glory  in  the  name  of  Briton ;  and  the  peculiar  hap- 
piness of  my  life  will  ever  consist  in  promoting  the 
welfare  of  a  people,  whose  loyalty  and  warm  affec- 
tion to  me  I  consider  as  the  greatest  and  most  per- 
manent security  of  my  throne."  When  the  people 
heard  these  words,  they  felt  that  England  once  more 
had  an  English  king. 

George  III  was  rather  shy  and  timid  in  public, 
but  he  knew  how  to  make  a  speech,  for  he  had  been 
well  trained  as  a  boy.  The  famous  London  actor 
Quin  used  to  come  over  to  the  royal  palace,  and 
teach  Prince  George  and  his  brothers  and  sisters 
how  to  declaim,  and  sometimes  he  permitted  them 
to  give  plays  in  the  palace,  before  audiences  of 
court  ladies  and  lords.  When  the  old  actor  heard 
how  well  George  III  delivered  his  speech  from  the 
throne,  he  cried  out  delightedly,  "  Aye,  'twas  I  that 
taught  the  boy  to  speak." 

Not  only  were  the  English  proud  to  have  a  Briton 
on  the  throne,  but  they  were  proud  of  George  as  a 
man.     He  was  very  kind  and  good,  and  seldom  has 


2TQ 


a  royal  family  been  happier.  George  III  selected  a 
German  princess,  Charlotte  of  Strelitz,  for  his  bride. 
The  royal  ambas- 
sador was  sent 
over  to  bring  the 
princess  to  Eng- 
land, and  a  whole 
squadron  of  ships 
lay  waiting  in  the 
Channel  to  accom- 
pany her  to  her 
new  home.  The 
bride  landed  in 
England  on  a 
Sunday  evening. 
Traveling  was  a 
slow    process    in 

those      days,     and  King  George   III. 

the  princess  took  two  days  to  go  up  to  London. 
She  spent  the  night  at  Lord  Abercorn's,  where 
she  was  given  a  great  banquet,  and  while  she  ate, 
the  doors  were  left  wide  open,  that  all  who  could 
might  catch  a  glimpse  of  their  new  queen.  "  Her 
Majesty,"  so  an  old  writer  tells  us,  "  was  dressed 
entirely  in  English  taste ;  she  wore  a  fly  cap  with 
laced  lappets,  a  stomacher  ornamented  with  dia- 
monds, and  a  gold  brocaded  suit  of  clothes  with  a 


i&Lf* 

is 

i 

^^H 

mim 

I 

j    •  i 

220 

white  ground."  The  next  morning  she  set  out  for 
London.  Three  royal  coaches  drove  in  advance  of 
her,  and  as  she  neared  the  city,  a  body  of  horse 
grenadiers  and  life  guards  closed  in  about  her 
to  welcome  and  escort  her  to  St.  James.  At 
the  entrance  to  the  garden  her  Majesty  alighted 
and  fell  on  her  knees  before  the  king.  Very  gra- 
ciously George  III  raised  her  up,  and  embracing 
her  affectionately,  led  her  into  the  great  palace, 
while  London  thundered  its  welcome  with  all  the 
guns  of  the  city.  They  were  married  in  great  state 
that  same  evening  in  the  royal  chapel. 

The  new  queen's  first  task  was  to  learn  English, 
for  she  knew  no  word  of  her  husband's  tongue  when 
she  first  came  to  England.  Every  morning  she 
worked  hard  with  an  instructor,  learning  to  read, 
write,  and  spell  the  new  language.  Sometimes  the 
king  came  in  and  laughed  with  her  over  her  queer 
pronunciation,  and  helped  her  in  writing  her  themes. 
When  the  English  lessons  were  over,  the  queen 
spent  an  hour  embroidering,  then  after  lunch  she 
and  the  king  went  out  to  drive  or  to  walk  in  the 
gardens  until  it  was  time  to  dress  for  dinner.  By 
and  by  many  little  princes  and  princesses  were  born 
into  this  happy  home,  Alfred,  Octavius  and  many 
others,  all  of  whom  received  a  royal  welcome  from 
England.     They  were  brought  up  very  simply  and 


221 


plainly,  much  like  ordinary  English  children.  In 
fact,  George  III  was  a  very  sensible  and  kind-hearted 
father  and  king.  There  is  a  story  about  him  that 
reminds  one  of  the  story  told  about  the  great  Alfred. 
One  day  the  king  was  out  on  a  hunt  near  Windsor, 
and  became  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  party. 
A  storm  came  up,  and  the  king  sought  shelter  in  a 
cottage  near  at  hand.  He  knocked,  and  asked  the 
young  girl  who  came  to  the  door  to  put  his  horse 
under  the  shed.  The  girl,  not  recognizing  the  royal 
guest,  replied  that  she  would  do  so  if  he  in  turn  would 
mind  the  goose  which  was  roasting  before  the  fire. 
The  king,  much  amused,  consented,  and  sat  down 
to  dry  his  wet  clothes  and  turn  the  spit.  The  fire 
was  very  hot,  and  the  king  was  red  in  the  face  before 
the  girl  returned.  He  did  not  complain,  however, 
but  chatted  pleasantly  with  her  while  the  shower 
continued,  telling  her  that  in  wealthy  families  it 
was  no  longer  necessary  to  turn  a  goose  by  hand, 
because  a  jack  had  been  invented  which  turned 
automatically.  As  soon  as  it  cleared  his  majesty  rode 
off  with  many  thanks  for  the  hospitality  shown  him. 
That  evening  the  peasant  girl  discovered  five 
guineas  wrapped  in  a  paper  on  the  chimney  piece. 
She  unrolled  the  paper,  and  read  these  words,  "  To 
buy  a  jack." 

George    III  had  two  great  faults.     He  was  very 


222 


narrow-minded  and  very  stubborn.  For  many  years 
England  had  been  involved  in  European  wars,  and 
it  was  necessary  to  tax  the  people  very  heavily  in 
order  to  pay  the  national  debt.  Not  only  was 
England  burdened  with  these  taxes,  but  Parliament 
decided  to  impose  them  upon  the  American  colonies 
which  were  under  British  rule.  The  American 
colonies  were  loyal  to  their  "mother  country.', 
They  were  willing  to  help  pay  the  debt,  but  they 
said  if  they  were  to  share  these  taxes  they  must  be 
allowed  to  send  some  members  to  the  English 
Parliament  to  represent  their  interests.  Parliament 
and  the  king  refused  this  demand,  although  the 
great  statesman,  Pitt,  used  all  his  eloquence  to  show 
the  injustice  in  doing  so.  Suddenly  George  III 
found  himself  involved  in  a  great  war,  the  American 
Revolution,  which,  was  to  separate  forever  England 
and  the  American  colonies.  Out  of  this  war  was 
born  the  United  States  of  America. 

John  Quincy  Adams  was  the  first  United  States 
minister  sent  to  England.  He  was  ushered  into 
the  presence  of  his  Majesty  and  the  Secretary  of 
State  alone.  Adams  made  three  deep  bows,  as 
was  the  custom,  one  at  the  door,  one  about  halfway, 
and  the  third  directly  before  the  king.  He  then 
lifted  his  head,  and  spoke  very  calmly,  but  with  great 
dignity.     He  came,  he  said,  as  the  representative  of 


223 

his  people,  to  bring  from  the  United  States  a  pledge 
of  friendship  to  his  Majesty  and  his  Majesty's 
citizens,  and  to  present  the  best  wishes  of  the 
United  States  for  the  health  and  happiness  of  the 
royal  family.  He  then  added  that  he  should  esteem 
himself  the  happiest  of  all  men  if  he  could  bring 
about  the  old  spirit  of  "good  nature  and  good 
humor "  between  these  two  peoples  who,  though 
separated  by  an  ocean,  were  bound  together  by  the 
same  language,  the  same  religion,  and  kindred 
blood. 

The  king  listened  very  attentively  to  Adams's 
noble  words,  and  responded  with  much  feeling.  "  I 
wish  you,  sir,  to  believe,"  he  said,  "  and  that  it  may 
be  understood  in  America,  that  I  have  done  nothing 
in  the  late  contest  but  what  I  thought  myself 
indispensably  bound  to  do,  by  the  duty  which  I 
owed  to  my  people.  I  will  be  very  frank  with  you. 
I  was  the  last  to  conform  to  the  separation ;  but  the 
separation  having  been  made,  and  having  become 
inevitable,  I  have  always  said,  as  I  say  now,  that  I 
would  be  the  first  to  meet  the  friendship  of  the 
United  States  as  an  independent  power." 

Adams  then  retired  backward,  as  was  customary, 
from  his  Majesty's  presence,  and  went  his  way. 


224 

CHARLES    DICKENS 

He  was  a  very  queer  small  boy,  who  lived  in 
Chatham  by  the  sea  in  a  little  whitewashed  house. 
He  was  sickly,  and  so  small  of  his  age  that  when 
the  other  boys  of  the  village  played  cricket  or  mar- 
bles, he  always  had  to  stand  by  and  watch.  Or  else 
he  crept  off  to  his  own  room,  and,  seated  on  the  bed, 
bent  over  the  "  Arabian  Nights "  or  "  Robinson 
Crusoe "  until  the  darkness  came  in  through  the 
tiny  windows  and  covered  over  the  letters  on  the 
page.  He  had  learned  these  letters  at  his  mother's 
knee  when  he  was  a  very,  very  small  boy,  and  later 
he  had  gone  to  school  with  his  older  sister  Fanny ; 
but  he  learned  more  out  of  the  few  books  that  he 
discovered  one  day  upstairs  in  his  own  house,  and 
the  people  in  these  books  were  more  real  to  him 
than  the  children  who  sat  beside  him  in  school. 
By  and  by  he  tried  to  write  a  book  himself,  and 
became  quite  the  hero  among  the  boys  and  girls  of 
Chatham  by  writing  a  play  about  the  Sultan  of 
India.  He  could  sing  funny  little  songs,  and  tell 
stories,  too,  better  than  the  other  children  ;  and  often 
when  there  was  company  his  father  stood  him  on 
the  table  and  had  him  recite  in  his  shrill  little  voice. 
Altogether  he  was  a  very  happy  boy  in  Chatham. 
The  fields  in  spring  were  bright  with  hawthorn  bios- 


soms.  The  village  square  was  weekly  filled  with 
regiments  of  gayly  uniformed  soldiers  who  per- 
formed wonderful  drills.  The  great  cathedral  and 
castle  were  as  marvelous  and  beautiful  as  the  palace 
of  Aladdin  to  this  little  boy.  And  then  there  were 
always  the  ships,  white-sailed  or  black-smoking 
ships,  going  down  the  widening  river  to  the  sea. 
Dearest  of  all  to  the  queer  little  boy,  however,  was 
a  great  house  near  Chatham  called  Gads  Hill  Place, 
standing  high  above  the  turnpike.  It  was  the  great- 
est treat  in  the  world  for  this  little  nine-year-old  boy 
to  be  brought  out  to  look  at  this  house,  and  one 
day  his  father,  seeing  how  much  he  liked  the  great 
house,  said  to  him,  "  If  you  were  to  be  very  per- 
severing and  were  to  work  hard,  you  might  some 
day  come  to  live  in  it."  And  the  strange  part  of 
this  story  is  that  what  his  father  said  came  true. 

Soon  after  this  the  family  moved  to  London. 
The  small  boy  was  put  inside  of  a  big,  lumbering 
stage  coach  and  sent  down  to  the  city  alone.  He 
never  forgot  that  lonesome  journey  :  the  smell  of  the 
damp  straw  in  the  bottom  of  the  coach,  the  sand- 
wiches that  he  ate  all  by  himself,  and  the  heavy  rain 
beating  against  the  rattling  windows.  All  the 
beautiful  world  seemed  to  be  left  behind  for  an  ugly 
little  tenement  in  one  of  the  poorest  parts  of  Lon- 
don.     There  was  no  more  school,  although  the  little 

LIT.   STO.   OF  ENG.  —  IS 


226 


boy  was  more  eager  than  ever  to  learn.     The  only 
treasure   that  came   with   him   from    Chatham   was 


"  The  small  boy  was  put  inside  of  a  big,  lumbering  stage  coach." 

the  pile  of  old  books.  He  spent  his  day  blacking 
his  father's  boots  and  running  errands  back  and 
forth  through  the  dark  and  dirty  streets,  where  he 
could  scarcely  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  sun  or  the 
sky. 

Life  grew  more  and  more  wretched.  The  money 
became  more  and  more  scarce,  until  there  was  not 
enough  to  pay  even  for  bread  and  meat.  One  day 
an  officer  came  to  the  tenement,  and  carried  the 
father  away  to  the  debtor's  prison.  The  little  boy 
could  not  understand  it ;  but  that  night  he  went 
with  swollen  eyes  to  visit  his  father.     There  was  a 


227 

scant  fire  burning  feebly  in  the  grate,  and  the  father 
sat  down  beside  it  with  his  little  son,  and  they  both 
wept.  Then  he  told  the  boy  to  remember  this : 
that  if  a  man  has  twenty  pounds  a  year  and  spends 
nineteen  pounds,  nineteen  shillings,  and  sixpence,  he 
will  be  happy,  but  if  he  spends  twenty  pounds  and 
one  shilling  more,  he  will  be  wretched. 

This  wretchedness  the  little  boy  was  soon  to 
know.  His  father  had  to  stay  in  prison;  the  pawn- 
broker came  and  carried  away  all  the  furniture  and 
all  the  books  ;  and  the  little  boy  himself  was  sent  to 
a  factory,  where  he  worked  all  day  long  pasting  blue 
labels  on  boxes  of  blacking  paste.  He  was  so  un- 
happy during  these  two  years  of  his  life  that  he 
could  never  recall  them  without  tears  coming  into 
his  eyes.  Perhaps  what  hurt  him  more  than  the 
hard,  monotonous  work  in  the  factory  and  the  poor 
pay,  was  the  fact  that  he  could  not  go  to  school  and 
learn  like  other  boys.  Still  these  days  were  school 
days.  He  was  not  learning  from  books,  but  he  was 
watching  men  and  women  in  real  life.  Probably 
he  himself  did  not  know  then  how  carefully  he  was 
using  his  eyes.  He  was  filling  his  mind  full  of  pic- 
tures of  queer  and  interesting  people,  and  the  funny 
things  that  these  people  said  to  each  other,  and  the 
amusing  things  that  they  did.  And  the  queer  little 
boy's  name,  Charles  Dickens,  was  to  be  known  all 


228 


through    England,    because    he    made    these    same 
people  live  again  in  his  stories  and  novels. 

Dickens  was  a 
reporter  first  for  a 
newspaper.  Then 
one  day  he  sent  an 
article  to  a  maga- 
zine, and  signed  it 
"  Boz,"  a  nickname 
that  he  had  given 
one  of  his  younger 
brothers.  It  was 
accepted,  and  nine 
others  followed  it. 
Then  came  the 
famous  "  Pickwick 
Papers,"  and  after 
that  the  many 
other  stories,  "  Old 
Curiosity  Shop," 
"  Oliver  Twist,"  and  "  David  Copperfield,"  which  is 
really  a  story  of  Dickens's  own  life,  and  tells  many 
stories  about  "the  queer  small  boy." 

Dickens's  fame  was  not  only  in  England,  but 
reached  also  to  America.  Although  the  voyage 
was  long  and  rough  in  those  days,  Dickens  crossed 
the  ocean  twice  to  visit  our  country.     Wherever  he 


229 

went  crowds  came  to  see  him.  Sometimes  the  train 
on  which  he  was  traveling  was  obliged  to  stop  ex- 
pressly at  some  small  town  where  great  crowds  had 
gathered  just  to  catch  a  sight  of  his  face.  In  the 
street  cars  many  a  man  and  woman  stepped  up  to 
him,  and  begged  just  to  shake  hands  with  him.  A 
big  dinner  was  given  him  in  New  York,  where 
Washington  Irving  presided  and  gave  the  toast 
"  To  Charles  Dickens,  the  Guest  of  the  Nation." 
It  was  on  this  trip,  too,  that  he  met  Longfellow,  who 
afterwards  visited  Dickens  in  England. 

As  long  as  he  lived,  Dickens  was  a  very  busy 
man.  Novel  after  novel  came  from  his  pen,  and 
each  story  was  read  more  eagerly  than  the  last. 
Perhaps  it  was  when  he  was  writing  "  David  Copper- 
field"  that  he  remembered  the  great  house  of  Gads 
Hill  Place,  and  the  old  boyish  longing  to  own  it 
came  back  to  him.  In  order  to  buy  it  he  gave 
public  readings  from  his  own  works  all  over  Eng- 
land and  in  America. 

The  sickly  little  boy  never  grew  into  a  strong 
man.  Public  life  was  hard  for  him.  In  a  letter  to 
a  friend  he  tells  how  happy  he  was  to  leave  London 
and  retire  to  Gads  Hill. 

"  Birds  sing  here  all  day,"  he  writes,  "  and  the 
nightingales  all  night.  The  place  is  lovely.  ...  I 
have  put  five  mirrors  in  the  Swiss  Chalet  where  I 


230 


write,  and  they  reflect  and    refract  in  all  kinds  of 
ways  the  leaves  that  are  quivering  at  the  windows, 


Gads  Hill  Place. 

and  the  great  fields  of  waving  corn,  and  the  sail- 
dotted  river.  My  room  is  up  amongst  the  branches 
of  the  trees,  and  the  birds  and  butterflies  fly  in  and 
out,  and  the  green  branches  shoot  in  at  the  windows, 
and  the  lights  and  shadows  of  the  clouds  come  and 
go  with  the  rest  of  the  company.  The  scent  of  the 
flowers,  and  indeed  of  everything  that  is  growing  for 
miles  and  miles,  is  most  delicious." 

He  died  here  in  1870.  It  was  his  wish  to  be 
buried  there  quietly  in  the  little  old  graveyard;  but 
the  nation  claimed  him  for  hers,  and  he  was  laid  to 
rest  in  Westminster  Abbey.      For  days  crowds  and 


231 


crowds  flocked  through  the  great  church  to  pay 
him  homage,  and  crowds  from  all  nations  are  still 
going  every  year  to  visit  his  grave  among  the  great 


writers  of  English  literature. 


>s*t< 


QUEEN   VICTORIA 

There  are  many  kingdoms  in  the  world  that  will 
never  allow  a  woman  to  sit  upon  their  throne.  But 
England  is  very  proud  of  the  queens  who  have  ruled 
over  her.  Two  queens  have  had  such  famous  reigns 
that  the  age  in  which  they  lived  is  named  after  them 
—  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  and  the  Victorian  Era. 

Victoria  was  not  born  the  daughter  of  a  king,  like 
Elizabeth,  but  it  was  known  that  she  was  in  direct 
line  to  the  throne.  Her  mother,  the  Duchess  of 
Kent,  took  great  pains  that  Victoria  should  not 
know  this  fact.  She  did  not  want  her  little  daughter 
to  be  proud  because  she  might  some  day  be  queen. 
Victoria's  father  died  when  she  was  a  baby,  but  her 
mother  took  every  care  that  the  little  girl  should  be 
brought  up  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  her  a  beautiful 
and  wise  woman,  ready  to  wear  the  English  crown 
if  it  should  some  day  come  to  her.  The  little  prin- 
cess's bed  stood  close  beside  her  mother's,  and  be- 
fore she  was  old  enough  to  sit  at  the  family  table  at 


232 

dinner,  she  had  her  own  little  table  near  her  mother. 
She  wore  very  simple  dresses,  and  was  allowed  to 
spend  only  her  weekly  allowance,  which  was  very 
small  indeed.  One  day  Victoria  and  her  governess 
were  visiting  a  toyshop,  where  the  princess  found  a 
doll  that  she  wanted  very  much.  She  took  out  her 
purse  to  buy  it,  but  found  that  she  lacked  a  few 
shillings.  Victoria  looked  up  at  her  governess  very 
pleadingly,  but  the  governess  shook  her  head. 
"  You  will  have  to  wait  until  you  get  your  next 
week's  allowance,"  she  said.  Victoria  still  held  the 
dolly  very  longingly  in  her  hands.  When  the  shop- 
keeper saw  how  much  she  wanted  it,  he  promised 
to  save  it  until  the  coming  Saturday,  when  Victoria 
would  have  her  allowance.  All  through  the  week 
Victoria  thought  of  the  pretty  dolly  lying  in  its  box 
on  the  top  shelf  in  the  shop.  Early  Saturday  morn- 
ing she  was  up  and  dressed,  and,  mounted  on  her 
little  gray  donkey,  she  rode  gayly  down  to  the  shop 
and  brought  the  new  treasure  home  in  her  arms. 

Victoria's  lessons  began  when  she  was  very  young, 
and  she  was  made  to  study  much  harder  and  longer 
lessons  than  most  little  girls.  Among  other  studies 
was  Latin,  which  the  princess  didn't  enjoy  at  all. 
Finally  it  was  thought  wise  to  tell  her  that  she  was 
the  direct  heir  to  the  throne.  Her  English  history 
was  given  her,  and  she  was  shown  a   table  of  the 


233 

English  kings  and  queens  back  from  the  time  of 
Alfred.  Slowly  it  came  to  her  that  if  her  uncle 
died,  she  would  be  queen.  Victoria  turned  a  very 
sober  face  up  to  her  governess.  "  Now  I  know," 
she  said,  "  why  you  urged  me  so  much  to  learn  even 
Latin,  which  my  aunts  Augusta  and  Mary  never 
did."  Then  she  came  a  little  closer  and  put  her 
hand  in  her  governess's.  "  I  will  be  good,"  she 
said  softly. 

From  that  day  she  studied  and  worked  hard  to 
fit  herself  to  be  queen.  She  spent  hours  reading 
the  history  of  her  own  land,  and  her  wise  mother 
took  her  on  long  trips  throughout  the  country,  that 
she  might  know  Scotland  and  England  and  the 
people  over  whom  she  was  some  day  to  rule. 

It  was  not  thought  that  this  day  would  come  so 
quickly.  Victoria  had  just  celebrated  her  eight- 
eenth birthday  when  the  king  died,  about  two 
o'clock  one  June  morning.  The  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  and  the  Lord  Chamberlain  at  once  set 
out  to  announce  the  news  to  the  young  sovereign. 
They  reached  Kensington  Palace  about  five  o'clock 
in  the  early  dawn.  They  knocked  and  thumped  at 
the  gate  a  long  time  before  they  could  arouse  the 
sleepy  porter.  When  at  last  they  were  let  in,  they 
announced  that  they  must  see  her  Royal  Highness 
at  once   on    important   business.     The  answer  was 


234 

brought  back,  "  The  princess  is  in  such  sweet  slum- 
ber that  we  do  not  venture  to  disturb  her." 


She  listened  very  quietly  to  the  message 


Then  the  archbishop  replied,  "  We  are  come  to 
see  the  Queen  on  important  business  of  state." 

There  was  no  more  delay.  Victoria  did  not  wait 
even  to  dress  herself,  but  came  into  the  room  wrapped 
in  a  shawl,  her  beautiful,  bright  hair  falling  down  her 
back,  and  tears  shining  in  her  eyes.  She  listened 
very  quietly  to  the  message,  and  then  said,  softly, 
"  I  beg  your  Grace  to  pray  for  me."  Then  she 
asked  that  she  might  be  left  alone  for  two  hours, 


235 

Her  first  act  was  to  write  a  letter  to  her  aunt,  telling 
her  of  her  sympathy  in  her  sorrow. 

That  same  day  at  eleven  Victoria  held  her  first 
council.  Lord  Beaconsfield  has  written  this  descrip- 
tion of  the  scene  :  — 

"  There  are  assembled  the  prelates  and  captains 
and  chief  men  of  her  realm.  A  hum  of  half-sup- 
pressed conversation  fills  that  brilliant  assemblage, 
a  sea  of  plumes  and  glittering  stars,  and  gorgeous 
dresses.  Hush!  The  portal  opens  —  she  comes. 
The  silence  is  as  deep  as  that  of  a  noontide  forest. 
Attended  for  a  moment  by  her  royal  mother  and 
the  ladies  of  the  court,  who  bow  and  then  retire, 
Victoria  ascends  her  throne  alone  and  for  the  first 
time  amid  an  assembly  of  men." 

She  was  crowned  in  Westminster  Abbey.  The 
great  church  was  gorgeously  decorated  with  gold 
and  crimson.  "  When  the  queen  entered  the  abbey, 
with  eight  ladies  all  in  white  floating  about  her  like 
a  silvery  cloud,  she  paused  as  if  for  breath  and 
clasped  her  hands."  As  she  knelt  to  have  the  crown 
placed  upon  her  head,  a  ray  of  sunlight  fell  over  her, 
lighting  up  her  face  and  making  the  crown  dazzle 
with  brightness. 

But  when  the  festivities  were  over,  the  young 
queen  found  that  long  clays  of  hard  work  stretched 
out  before  her.      Victoria  was  never  a  figure  queen. 


236 

She  worked  with  her  minister  as  faithfully  as  any 
king,  ever  studying  the  many  problems  that  were 
facing  her  country.  Two  years  later  she  married 
her  cousin,  Prince  Albert  of  Saxe-Coburg,  who  was 
given  the  title  of  prince  consort.  He  was  a  man  of 
noble  character  and  great  learning,  and  stood  close 
beside  the  queen,  aiding  her  in  many  ways.  Nine 
children  were  born  to  them,  and  many  grand- 
children. Her  first  grandchild  is  now  the  German 
emperor.  "Dear  little  William,"  Victoria  often 
called  him. 

Victoria  reigned  for  sixty-four  years.  No  other 
English  monarch  sat  for  so  long  a  time  upon  the 
throne.  Many  wonderful  events  took  place  during 
these  years.  The  first  railroads  were  built.  The 
telegraph  was  put  into  use.  The  first  cable  was 
laid  between  England  and  America,  and  the  queen 
sent  a  long  message  of  greeting  to  President 
Buchanan.  When  Victoria  ascended  the  throne,  it 
took  four  weeks  for  the  news  to  reach  America. 
When  she  died,  the  sad  words  were  flashed  around 
the  world  in  less  than  half  an  hour. 

The  prince  consort  died  many  years  before  the 
queen.  One  of  his  greatest  acts  for  England  was 
the  arranging  of  the  first  world's  fair.  This  exhi- 
bition was  almost  entirely  the  prince's  own  idea. 
He    had    built  the  great  glass  building  outside  of 


'37 


London,  called  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  invited  all  the 
countries  of  Europe   to  send  exhibits  of  their  best 


The  Prince  Consort  opening  the  International   Exposition. 

and  most  characteristic  industries  and  arts.  This 
first  world's  fair  was  so  successful  that  many  other 
countries  since  then  have  adopted  the  plan  of  hold- 
ing such  expositions. 

After  the  prince  consort  died  the  queen  lived  very 
simply  and  quietly.  But  twice  the  nation  gave  her  a 
great  jubilee ;  once  when  she  had  reigned  for  half  a 
century,  and  then,  ten  years  later,  when  she  had  been 
queen  sixty  years.      On   this  occasion  gifts  poured 


238 

into  England  from  all  over  Europe  and  Asia,  most 
beautiful  and  costly  gifts  for  the  honored  queen. 

Such  a  long  reign  had,  too,  its  sad  events.  There 
were  long  and  cruel  wars.  No  one  regretted  this 
shedding  of  blood  more  than  Queen  Victoria.  No 
one  longed  more  than  she  that  the  time  should  come 
when  the  nations  of  the  world  should  be  at  peace, 
and  all  difficulties  should  be  settled  in  courts  instead 
of  by  arms. 

odi*i<><> — 

EDWIN    LANDSEER 

Edwin  Landseer  was  born  a  painter  of  animals. 
When  he  was  a  little  boy,  he  was  always  running  away 
from  school  and  his  books,  but  he  never  ran  away 
from  his  paint  box  and  palette.  His  father  was  a 
painter  before  him,  and  was  anxious  that  his  boy 
should  be  an  artist.  He  thought  if  he  was  going  to 
paint,  it  was  not  necessary  for  him  to  spend  much  time 
learning  geography  and  arithmetic,  so  he  used  to  take 
him  out  into  the  fields,  lift  him  over  the  stile,  and 
set  him  down  on  the  grass  to  draw  sheep.  Edwin 
was  so  young  then  that  his  fingers  could  scarcely 
hold  a  pencil,  but  he  always  sketched  on  and  on 
until  it  grew  dark  and  his  father  came  to  correct  his 
work  and  take  the  little  artist  home. 

As   he    grew   older,  wherever  animals   could    be 


239 


found,  Landseer  was  there  with  his  pencil  and  sketch- 
book. He  went  often  to  the  Exeter  Exchange, 
where  there  was  a 
show  of  wild  ani- 
mals; he  spent  hours 
in  the  Tower  of 
London,  where  were 
kept  at  that  time 
lions,  leopards,  and 
bears ;  and  every 
summer  found  him 
among  the  Scottish 
Highlands  sketch- 
ing the  wild  red  deer. 
From  these  haunts 
he  hurried  back  to 
the  Art  School  of 
the  Royal  Academy, 

where  he  studied  most  faithfully.  He  was  so  fond 
of  painting  dogs,  and  he  painted  them  so  well,  that 
his  master  often  spoke  of  him  as  "my  little  dog 
boy."  He  never  went  to  walk  without  half  a  dozen 
puppies  and  dogs  about  him,  and  when  he  painted 
his  own  portrait,  he  put  in  two  great  dogs  looking 
over  his  shoulder.  Once  on  his  way  North,  in  the 
summer,  he  stopped  to  see  Sir  Walter  Scott,' who 
was  also  fond   of    dumb   companions,  and   brought 


Sir  Edwin  Landseer. 


240 

away  a  sketchbook  full  of  drawings  of  the  great 
writer  and  his  dogs. 

Landseer's  pictures  were  very  popular.  His  ani- 
mals looked  out  of  the  canvas  with  such  human 
eyes  that  every  one  was  drawn  to  them.  They 
were  very  lifelike,  too.  One  of  Landseer's  friends, 
whenever  he  came  into  the  artist's  studio,  which 
was  full  of  pictures  of  dogs,  would  cry  out: 
"  Keep  the  dogs  off  me.  I  want  to  come  in,  and 
some  of  them  will  bite  me.  That  fellow  in  the 
corner  is  growling  ferociously." 

In  later  years  Landseer  painted  some  portraits,  but 
they  were  never  so  good  as  his  pictures  of  animals. 
He  was  a  great  favorite  of  Queen  Victoria  and  the 
whole  royal  family.  The  queen  took  many  lessons 
of  him,  and  all  the  pets  in  the  royal  household  were 
painted  by  his  brush.  Once  the  queen  asked  Land- 
seer to  paint  a  picture  of  Prince  Albert's  favorite 
grayhound  for  a  birthday  gift.  The  dog  was  to  be 
painted  standing  near  a  table  on  which  lay  the 
prince's  hat  and  gloves.  While  Landseer  was 
painting  busily,  a  messenger  came  in  hot  haste. 
The  prince  was  hunting  for  his  hat  and  gloves, 
and  the  queen  was  afraid  that  he  might  find  out 
where  they  were,  and  thus  guess  her  secret.  An- 
other time  Landseer  dressed  up  as  a  groom,  and 
rode  out  behind  the  queen  that  he  might  make  a 


241 

study  of  an  equestrian  portrait  of  the  queen.  As  a 
sign  of  royal  favor  he  was  afterwards  knighted  by 
Victoria. 

Landseer  was  so  genial  and  fond  of  fun  that  he 
made  friends  everywhere.  One  evening  at  a  party 
a  young  lady  happened  to  say  that,  however  skillful 
any  one  was,  it  would  be  impossible  to  draw  with 
both  hands  at  once.  "  Oh,  I  can  do  that,"  said  the 
artist.  "  Give  me  two  pencils,  and  I  will  show 
you." 

He  took  a  pencil  in  either  hand,  and  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  drew  at  the  same  time  a  stag's 
head  with  his  right  hand,  and  a  horse's  head  with 
the  other. 

Sir  Edwin  Landseer  lived  to  be  over  seventy 
years  old,  and  he  painted  animals  all  his  life,  up  to 
the  day  of  his  death.  Oftentimes  he  liked  to  paint 
a  story  of  animals,  such  as  Robert  Burns's  "Twa 
Dogs."  In  this  story  two  dogs  met  together  on  a 
bonny  day  in  June.  The  one,  called  Caesar,  was  a 
dog  kept  for  his  master's  pleasure.  He  was  not 
one  of  Scotland's  dogs,  but  came  from 

"  some  place  far  abroad, 
Where  sailors  gang  to  fish  for  cod." 

He  wore  a  brass  collar,  and  looked  like  a  gentle- 
man. The  other  was  a  plowman's  collie,  with  a 
white    breast    and   a  coat  of  glossy  black.     These 

LIT.  STO.  OF  ENG.  —  1 6 


242 


"  twa  dogs "  met  together  to  talk  over  life.  The 
Newfoundland  could  not  understand  how  any  man 
could  be  happy  unless  he  had  his  coach  and  four, 
and  a  hundred  men  at  his  call,  like  his  own  master. 
And  yet  the  collie  was  sure  that  his  honest  master 


Is 

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; 

The  Old  Shepherd's  Chief  Mourner. 

was  well  content  in  his  humble  cottage.     So  they 

passed    the    afternoon,    until    the    sun    was    out    of 

sight, 

"When  up  they  gat,  and  shook  their  lugs, 
Rejoiced  they  were  na  men  but  dogs; 
And  each  took  aff  his  several  way, 
Resolved  to  meet  some  ither  day." 


243 

When  Landseer  died,  he  was  buried  with  great 
honor  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  at  London.  On  the 
marble  slab  which  marks  his  grave  is  a  medallion 
portrait  of  the  painter,  and  beneath  it  in  relief  is 
modeled  a  copy  of  his  own  painting  "  The  old 
Shepherd's  Chief  Mourner."  This  is  one  of  Land- 
seer's  greatest  pictures.  Inside  of  a  dreary  hut 
stands  the  rude  coffin  in  which  lies  the  shepherd. 
His  hat  and  staff  have  fallen  on  the  floor,  his  plaid 
that  has  sheltered  him  from  the  winter's  blast  lies 
across  the  coffin,  and  close  beside  it  watches  his 
most  faithful  friend,  his  dog,  silently  mourning  for 
his  dead  master. 

»o><*oo — 

ALFRED    LORD    TENNYSON 

In  the  quiet  little  village  of  Somersby,  which  lies 
upon  a  hillslope,  stands  a  small  sandstone  church,  and 
near  it  a  low  white  rectory.  In  the  days  when 
George  III  was  king  of  England,  a  family  of  twelve 
children  lived  in  this  rectory  and  played  games  of 
knights  and  tournaments  in  the  gardens  and  woods 
about  it.  The  leader  in  these  games  was  Alfred,  for 
he  could  always  make  up  the  most  exciting  adven- 
tures. He  could  tell  the  best  stories,  too,  and  he  made 
his  little  brothers'  and  sisters'  blood  run  cold  by 
gathering  them  about  him  in  the  evening  and  telling 


244 


them  stories  of  gigantic  mountains  where  great  drag- 
ons lived  who  came  forth  at  night  to  slay  beautiful 


Tennyson. 

damsels.  But  he  never  told  them  cruel  stories,  for 
Alfred's  heart  was  very  kind  and  gentle.  He  could 
not  bear  to  see  any  one  or  anything  suffer.  It  hurt 
him  so  to  see  a  rabbit  caught  in  a  trap  that  he  went 
around  the  neighborhood  springing  all  the  traps  that 
the  gamekeepers  had  set.  "  If  we  once  catch  that 
young  gentleman,  we  will  chuck  him  in  the  pond," 
the  gamekeepers  muttered ;  but  they  never  caught 
him. 


245 

Alfred  had  one  strange  pet  of  his  own.  One  night, 
as  he  was  sitting  by  the  window  of  his  own  little 
attic  room,  a  young  owl  called  just  outside.  He 
answered  the  call,  and  the  little  bird  flew  in  to  him. 
He  sat  very  still  and  called  softly.  The  owl  hopped 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last  nestled  close  to  him 
and  ate  out  of  his  hand.  He  grew  very  tame,  and 
forsook  the  other  owls  for  the  twelve  Tennyson  chil- 
dren. Everybody  in  the  house  was  very  fond  of  him, 
except  the  monkey  that  belonged  to  Alfred's  grand- 
mother. He  used  to  be  very  jealous  because  the 
owl  liked  to  come  and  perch  on  the  old  lady's 
head. 

When  Alfred  was  seven  years  old,  he  was  asked, 
"  Would  you  rather  go  to  school  or  to  sea  ?"  To  the 
boy  school  meant  books,  so  he  quickly  chose  the 
former.  But  school  in  those  days  in  England  was  a 
very  unhappy  place  for  boys.  The  lessons  were  long 
and  dry.  The  masters  were  very  strict,  and  fond  of 
using  the  rod  if  the  boys  made  mistakes  or  did  not 
learn  their  lessons.  And  the  big  boys  bullied  the 
little  ones  and  the  new  ones.  From  the  very  begin- 
ning Alfred  hated  the  little  school  at  Louth  where  he 
and  his  brother  Charles  were  sent.  Still  he  had  some 
happy  times  there.  It  was  about  this  age  that  he 
began  writing  the  verses  that  he  was  always  making 
up  in  his  head.     Finally  he  and  Charles  took  their 


246 


verses  to  a  little  bookseller  in  the  town.  He  read 
them  through,  and  offered  to  buy  them  for  one  hun- 
dred dollars.     Half  of  this  sum  had  to  be  taken  out 


*£&V 


Tennyson's  Birthplace. 

in  books  from  the  store.  We  do  not  know  what  the 
two  youthful  writers  did  with  the  other  half,  except 
that  they  hired  a  carriage  one  afternoon  and  drove 
fourteen  miles  over  the  low  hills  and  marshy  flats 
to  Mablethorpe,  where  they  could  see  the  ocean. 
Here  on  the  seashore  they  "shared  their  triumph 
with  the  winds  and  w7aves." 

Tennyson  finished  his  schooling  at  the  University, 
of  Cambridge.  Here,  too,  he  found  much  that  was 
dull  and  uninteresting.  But  it  was  here  that  he  met 
Arthur  Hallam,  another  student.  Arthur  Hallam's 
fine  mind  and  gentle  ways  charmed  the  young  poet. 


247 

They  walked,  studied,  and  read  together.  On  vaca- 
tions Tennyson  brought  his  friend  home  to  the  old 
rectory  at  Somersby.  His  early  death  was  Tenny- 
son's first  and  greatest  sorrow.  Hallam  went  to  Eu- 
rope for  his  health,  and  died  on  the  way  home. 
Tennyson's  grief  was  so  intense  that  he  thought  for 
a  while  that  he  could  never  take  up  his  pen  again. 
But  his  very  sadness  of  heart  turned  him  to  writing, 
and  in  a  long  and  beautiful  poem  called  "  In  Memo- 
riam,"  he  has  told  the  world  of  the  wonderful  meaning 
of  a  true  and  noble  friendship.1 

This  great  sorrow  made  Tennyson's  heart  very 
tender  to  others  who  were  sad.  None  of  his  verses 
are  more  beautiful  than  the  lines  which  he  wrote  to 
Queen  Victoria  when  the  Prince  Consort  died.  He 
was  the  Poet  Laureate  then,  the  great  national  poet. 
All  England  was  longing  to  speak  some  word  of 
comfort  to  their  beloved  queen.  This  great  flood 
of  sympathy  was  taken  up  by  the  poet  and  put  into 
most  tender,  beautiful  words.  Tennyson  was  just 
ready  to  publish  his  poems  about  King  Arthur  and 
his  Knights  of  the  Table  Round.  He  put  them  all 
together,  and,  calling  them  "  Idylls  of  the  King," 
dedicated  them  to  the  Prince  Consort,  who,  as  he 
writes :  — 

1  When  the  Prince  Consort  died  and  Tennyson  went  to  see  the  queen, 
she  said  to  him,  "  Next  to  the  Bible,  i  In  Memoriam  '  is  my  comfort.11 


248 

"  seems  to  me 
Scarce  other  than  my  own  ideal  knight, 
'who  reverenced  his  conscience  as  his  king.'  " 

Then  he  bids  the  queen's  heart  not  to  break,  but 
live  on,  and  closes  with  the  words :  — 

"  May  all  love, 
His  love  unseen,  but  felt,  o'ershadow  thee, 
The  love  of  all  thy  sons  encompass  thee, 
The  love  of  all  thy  daughters  cherish  thee, 
Till  God's  love  set  thee  at  his  side  again." 

So  these  old  legends  of  Lancelot  and  the  fair 
Elaine,  and  Sir  Galahad,  the  knight  in  white  armor, 
of  whom  King  Arthur  said  as  he  dubbed  him 
knight,  "  God  make  thee  good  as  thou  art  beautiful," 
were  brought  out  of  the  dim  past  of  ancient  Britain, 
and  given  to  the  world  in  such  beautiful  poetry  that 
they  will  live  forever. 

The  last  years  of  Tennyson's  life  were  all  spent 
in  writing  more  and  more  poetry.  He  had  many 
friends,  the  great  statesman,  Gladstone,  Browning, 
Carlyle,  and  a  host  of  others,  yet  he  loved  to  live  a 
little  apart  from  the  world.  When  he  found  that 
his  last  hour  was  come,  he  asked  his  son  to  bring 
him  his  Shakespeare,  and  he  held  the  treasured 
volume  close  to  his  heart  until  he  died.  The  full 
moon  came  in  through  the  open  windows  and  fell 
across  the  beautiful  face  and  hands  of  the  dead  poet. 


249 

To  his  son,  standing  beside  the  bed,  it  seemed  like 
the  passing  of  Arthur. 

It  was  his  wish  that  he  be  buried  simply.  So  he 
was  borne  away  from  the  beautiful  home  on  a  little 
wagonette  which  was  covered  with  moss  and  bright 
with  scarlet  cardinal  flowers.  Around  him  was 
wrapped  the  pall  which  the  working  men  and 
women  of  the  North  had  woven  and  the  cottagers 
of  Keswick  had  embroidered.  And  over  all  were 
banked  the  wreaths  and  crosses  of  flowers  that  came 
from  all  parts  of  Great  Britain.  The  old  coachman, 
who  had  been  for  thirty  years  Lord  Tennyson's 
faithful  servant,  led  the  horse  across  the  moor  just 
at  sunset.  In  the  rear  followed  quietly  the  villagers 
and  school  children.  The  queen  wished  her  great 
man  to  lie  in  Westminster  Abbey  in  the  Poets' 
Corner,  so  he  was  brought  thither,  and  placed  beside 
Robert  Browning  and  close  to  the  monument 
erected  to  the  first  English  poet,  Geoffrey  Chaucer. 


>x*;< 


EDWARD    VII 

On  the  afternoon  of  January  23,  1901,  the  Mall,  the 
great  street  in  London,  was  thronged  with  people. 
It  was  a  quiet  crowd,  for  there  was  sadness  in  every 
heart,  and  yet  here  and  there  a  smile  broke  over  the 


250 


faces  of  the  bystanders,  as  a  gayly  clad  officer  hurried 
down  the  street  and  entered  the  Palace  of  St.  James. 
At  about  five  minutes  to  two  the  heavy  gates  of  Marl- 
bo  rough  House 
"  swung  open.  There 
was  the  sound  of 
horses'  hoofs  on  the 
hard  road,  and  the 
crowd  pressed 
eagerly  forward. 
In  advance  rode 
the  King's  Guard 
in  full  dress,  and 
following  them  the 
escort.  For  a  mo- 
ment the  sun  broke 
through  the  low, 
gray  clouds,  light- 
ing up  their  shining 
helmets  and  flash- 
ing on  their  drawn 
swords.  But  the  people  heeded  them  little.  Their 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  coach  just  behind,  and  the 
grave  face  of  the  man  who  was  looking  out  through 
the  windows  at  them  with  kindly  eyes.  A  great  cheer 
went  up  as  the  coach  rolled  out  into  the  highway, 
a  cheer  of  sympathy  and  of  loyalty  from  the  people 


King  Edward  VII. 


251 

for  their  new  king.  The  coach  drove  at  a  trot 
down  the  Mall  to  St.  James  Palace,  and  then,  as  the 
clock  struck  two,  the  king  first  met  his  Council. 

He  stood  before  them,  a  man  of  sixty,  and  spoke 
to  them  briefly,  but  with  great  sincerity  and  dignity. 
He  told  them  that  it  was  his  first  duty  to  announce 
to' them  the  death  of  his  beloved  mother,  the  queen, 
in  which  loss  he  believed  he  had  not  only  their  sym- 
pathy, but  that  of  the  entire  world.  Then  he  told 
them  that  he  should  endeavor  to  follow7  in  her  foot- 
steps, and,  as  long  as  there  was  breath  in  his  body, 
to  work  for  the  good  of  his  people. 

His  name  was  Albert  Edward,  but  he  now  an- 
nounced that  he  would  be  known  by  the  name 
which  six  of  his  ancestors  had  borne.  The  name  of 
Albert,  which  he  had  inherited  from  his  father, 
should  remain  sacred  to  his  memory.  He  wanted 
England  to  remember  only  one  Albert,  "  Albert  the 
Good."  He  then  took  the  oath  of  king  as  Edward 
VII,  and  under  this  title  he  was  crowned  with 
great  pomp  and  ceremony  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Edward  VII  had  been  born  direct  heir  to  the  Eng- 
lish throne,  and  all  his  life  he  had  been  trained  to  be  a 
king.  He  had  studied  much  from  books,  but  he  had 
learned  more  from  traveling  and  visiting  all  parts  of 
the  world.  His  wise  father  sent  him  first,  as  a  small 
boy,  through  England  and  Scotland.    Then  followed 


252 


a  trip  to  Ireland,  and  later  many  visits  to  all  parts  of 
Europe.     When  he  was  a  boy  his  father  made  him 

send  back  home 
long  descriptions  of 
the  land  through 
which  he  was  trav- 
eling, and  give  his 
ideas  about  the 
people  and  their 
different  ways  of 
living.  After  he 
became  of  age  the 
Prince  of  Wales 
even  crossed  the 
Atlantic  to  visit 
Canada  and  the 
United  States,  and 
later  he  went  far 
to  the  East,  to  the 
Holy    Land,    even 


Edward  VII  at  the  Age  of  Seven. 


as   some    of    his    noble    ancestors    had   done. 

The  Prince  of  Wrales  chose  a  beautiful  and  lovely 
princess  for  his  bride,  Alexandra  the  Princess  Royal 
of  Denmark.  She  was  deeply  beloved  at  home,  and 
when  she  left  her  native  land  to  become  the  Princess 
of  Wales,  all  along  her  route  she  was  showered  with 
flowers,  and  crowds  of  people  gathered  all  along  the 


253 


way  to  wave  farewell  to  her.  But  as  royal  a  wel- 
come awaited  her  in  England.  Every  ship  and 
boat,  even  the  small- 
est fishing  vessel, 
along  the  English 
coast  flew  its  colors 
when  the  barge 
bearing  the  prin- 
cess arrived.  The 
stations,  the  streets, 
and  the  houses 
were  hung  with 
banners  and  great 
wreaths  of  flowers. 
And  cheer  followed 
cheer  as  if  the 
shouting  would 
never  cease.  The 
English  people,  as 
they  looked  into 
her  beautiful  face, 
were  charmed  by  her  loveliness  and  noble  air.  They 
were  afterwards  to  learn  that  she  was  as  kind  and 
as  simple  as  she  was  beautiful.  There  is  a  little 
story  told  of  her  on  one  of  her  visits  home  in 
Denmark,  that  shows  how  little  pride  ever  entered 
her  heart. 


Queen  Alexandra. 


254 

Alexandra  was  once  passing  along  the  streets  of 
Copenhagen  with  the  Czar  of  Russia  and  her  brother, 
Crown  Prince  of  Denmark.  A  peasant  happened  to 
pass  by  driving  a  load  of  hay,  and  the  Crown  Prince 
called  out  jokingly,  "  Give  us  a  ride." 

The  peasant,  little  guessing  who  they  were,  drew 
up  his  oxen  and  told  them  to  climb  on.  It  happened 
that  the  route  ran  by  the  Palace,  so  as  they  were  pass- 
ing, the  Czar  told  the  peasant  to  drive  into  the  court- 
yard. But  the  peasant  shook  his  head,  "  That's  the 
King's  Palace,  and  no  one  is  allowed  in  there  but 
royalty." 

"Never  mind,"  thundered  the  Czar,  "you  do  as  I 
say.     Don't  you  see  I  am  the  Czar  of  Russia  !  " 

"And  I  am  the  Crown  Prince  of  Denmark,"  added 
the  other.  "  And  this  lady  is  Her  Royal  Highness, 
the  Princess  of  Wales." 

The  peasant  looked  at  them  a  moment  carefully 
through  his  little  squinting  eyes,  then  he  drawled 
out,  "  And  I  am  the  Emperor  of  China,"  and  drove 
on  by  the  gate. 

While  in  London  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales 
lived  in  state  at  the  great  Marlborough  House,  but 
they  liked  to  call  Sandringham  Hall,  a  beautiful 
country  seat  in   Norfolk,  their  real  home. 

There  were  many  gardeners  and  gamekeepers 
needed  on  the  estate,  and  King  Edward  was  very 


255 


generous  to  them 


He  built  pretty  cottage  homes 
for  them;  schools  for  their  children;  a  clubhouse 
where  they  could  meet  when  not  at  work ;   and  a 


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Sandringham  Hall. 

hospital  to  care  for  them  when  they  were  sick.  The' 
hospital  was  the  special  care  of  Queen  Alexandra,  and 
was  visited  by  her  every  day  when  she  was  at  Sand- 
ringham.     Over  the  door  she  placed  this  motto:  — 


Ask  God  for  all  you  want, 
Thank  Him  for  all  you  have, 
And  never  grumble. 


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256 

On  one  part  of  the  grounds,  hidden  among  the 
trees,  is  a  tiny  dairy.      Just  as  the   French  queen 

Marie  Antoi- 
nette, liked  to  slip 
away  from  the 
great  palace  at 
Versailles  and 
play  dairy  maid, 
Queen  Alexandra 
and  her  court 
ladies  liked  to 
wander  through 
the  trees  to  the 
little  dairy  and 
make  themselves 
a  cup  of  tea. 

King  Edward 
VII  did  not  have 
a  long  reign. 
Before  he  had 
celebrated  his  tenth  anniversary  he  died  leaving  his 
throne  to  his  sailor  son  George.  The  new  king  was 
crowned  in  June,  191 1,  George  V  of  England.  His 
wife,  formerly  Princess  Mary  of  Teck  is  now  Eng- 
land's queen,  and  already  there  are  six  little  princes 
and  princesses  about  whom  some  day  perhaps  we 
shall  have  to  write  more  Little  Stories  of  England. 


King  George  V. 


